


elementary

by vonseal



Series: magic users [2]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, M/M, Magic-Users, Mystery, Romance, tbh this fic might be long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 74,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: There's probably a reason why most head detectives need a partner, especially when that partner is Junior Detective Moon Bin.





	1. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So...” Moon Bin straightened out his cape. “When do we go investigate the murders?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BINU FIC SET IN WITCHCRAFT AU. takes place probably a few months before jinwoo and myungjun even meet, and as such, they won't be in it at all (mentions and flashbacks for myungjun, probably nothing for jinwoo). however, we do get the story of binnie and dongmin!

Dongmin had lived a very normal life.

His father was a businessman and spent months at a time away from home. As such, he was never much of an influence in Dongmin's life. His mother took over that role, basically serving as a stay-at-home parent for the entirety of Dongmin's childhood. She doted upon him, dressed him in only the finest clothing, and taught him proper manners.

Dongmin accepted the fact that he was better than everyone else, because no one ever told him he _wasn't_ better than everyone else.

His mother hired a private tutor for a very young Dongmin, stating, “I want him to become an extremely wealthy doctor!” The tutor was paid greatly for Dongmin's education, and the longer the tutor was able to make Dongmin study, the more money he got. Dongmin would later look back on his childhood and realize he usually only had five hours to himself everyday – and those five hours were set aside for sleeping. It was a lonely existence, full of work and learning, but Dongmin accepted it because his mother told him that was how _all_ children lived their lives.

He went to prestigious schools, and assumed children were the same everywhere. Even the small amount of playtime they received was stimulating, revolving around learning while not at a desk.

But that was how everyone was, Dongmin thought. Children didn't ever play, because children were supposed to learn.

When he was six years old, he discovered that he had the uncanny ability to understand peoples' thoughts. He first felt pride in this ability, wondering if it had stemmed from private tutoring and higher education, but then he asked a classmate, “Can you read minds?” mostly in order to boast of his own intelligence.

The child had made a face and responded, “Only magic users can do that, and magic users are evil. Obviously I can't.”

Dongmin was confused. He didn't _think_ he was evil. At the very least, he had never done anything evil before in his life.

He asked his mother, “Is it possible that people can read minds?”

His mother, washing dishes at their sink, shook her head. “Only magic users,” she responded, confirming the fact that Dongmin's classmate was correct. “And we stay _far_ away from magic users.”

Dongmin's next question made his mother drop the plate: “Why?”

“Hasn't anyone ever explained it to you?” his mother asked.

“No.”

His mother sighed. “Dongmin, magic users are everything _wrong_ with this world. They're terrible and they're...I need to put this lightly, but they're not the same as us.”

“They're different?”

“Yes, they're _different_. They're lower than humans, Dongmin, and you shouldn't associate yourself with anyone who can read minds or preform spells, heaven forbid, or bring things back from the dead.”

Dongmin tried out his mind-reading ability. The first thing his mother thought was, _Magic users are better off dead_.

Dongmin decided not to tell her that he was a mind-reader.

It was lonely existence, however, keeping the fact that he was a magic user to himself. He longed to tell people, to get it off his chest, to find others just like him, but everyone else was _normal_. Everyone else was human, and Dongmin was forced to accept the fact that he wasn't better than anyone else, that he was actually _below_ everyone else.

When they moved into a new neighborhood to try out a new school, Dongmin noticed the older boy from down the street being mocked. They had started walking to school, mostly so Dongmin's mother would feel at ease knowing that an older boy was taking care of her son, and Dongmin saw people whispering and giving this older boy weird looks.

So Dongmin read their minds first, and then read the boy's mind.

“Are you a necromancer?” he asked one day suddenly, and the boy's eyes widened.

Even if Dongmin hadn't been able to read his mind, he knew his suspicions would have been confirmed right then and there; someone who wasn't a necromancer would have disputed that question quickly, whereas the necromancer asked, “Who told you that?”

And Dongmin was so happy to meet a necromancer. The textbooks he had read concerning magic users had put necromancers right below witches in terms of villainy – that is, witches were pure evil, and necromancers were _almost_ pure evil. But the boy didn't seem evil. The boy had taken Dongmin's mind-reading ability in stride, joking constantly that, “I don't even need to say anything now, you can just read my mind!” and forcing himself to think of ridiculous nonsense, such as cats riding motorcycles, so that Dongmin had to see that when he did go to read the boy's mind.

For once in his life, Dongmin was experiencing true happiness, and he couldn't believe what great luck had fallen upon him to find someone as magnificent and accepting as a necromancer.

And then his mother figured out.

He was shocked she had never known for over a year that Myungjun was a magic user. Everyone else in the neighborhood was well-aware of that fact. However, his mother considered herself above everyone else, and so she never did partake in petty gossip. Dongmin was thankful for that, but then she saw Myungjun in his own yard, bringing flowers back to life.

Instantly, she began spouting theories of Myungjun coming to kill Dongmin and bring him back as a puppet. Dongmin tried to assure her that it wasn't possible, that none of his textbooks ever said such a thing, and his mother accused him then of becoming too friendly with a magic user.

“Did you know, Dongmin?” she asked in desperation, and Dongmin lied.

“No.”

He told Myungjun that the _official_ reason for their departure was to go to a new school – which was still partially true. However, he kept from him the fact that his mom thought Myungjun was better off dead, or in some form of institution. He kept from him the fact that his mom laughed when she heard that he had been locked in a closet overnight. He kept from him that his mom had said, “They should've left him there.”

He boiled with rage inside, and instead just told Myungjun, “It's a more _advanced_ school. I'll miss you.”

Myungjun had nodded his head sullenly, then asked, “Can we exchange addresses?”

Dongmin wet his lips. “Um, when we know when we're moving, I'll send you a letter.”

He cried later, hugged Myungjun, and never did send him that letter. From time to time, he would think of Myungjun, of his goofiness and weird ability to stay bright and positive despite the hatred he received on a daily basis.

Dongmin decided that he would _never_ be able to do that.

No one else knew. Sometimes his powers were used for good purposes, like to inform teachers that he _overheard_ bullies talking about where they would fight their next victim. Sometimes his powers were used for not-so-good purposes, like to figure out all of the correct answers to the trick questions his tutor would give him, thus thwarting his attempts to make Dongmin study late into the night.

When his senior year of high school rolled around, Dongmin had still managed to float on past with no one uncovering his secret. He was the top of his class, he rejected love letters on a daily basis, and he was the student body president. His mother always told people, “He's so much better than the other children! He's smarter and much more attractive and popular. He's going to become a rich doctor.”

Dongmin thought that perhaps students who _were_ better than others could become doctors. However, he had known his whole life that he was below everyone else. He was a magic user, on par with Myungjun, and he felt guilty knowing that other magic users had been treated terribly, and yet he passed on through life with nothing but love and support.

So he came clean.

“Do you remember when I was asking you about mind readers?” he asked his mother one night at dinner.

His mother shook her head slowly. “I don't. Why?”

Dongmin tried again. “Do you remember when we moved because you didn't like Myungjun?” His mother looked at him blankly, and Dongmin realized she had no recollection of the name. He tried again. “The necromancer.”

“Oh!” That rung a bell, and Dongmin caught her inner thoughts, full of hatred and fear and distrust. “I still cannot _believe_ his mother kept him. I can't believe she never warned us that someone like...like _that_ lived in our neighborhood! And to think, he was around you for over a year!”

“And he didn't harm me once during that entire year,” Dongmin mumbled.

“Speak up, you know you shouldn't mumble.”

Dongmin sighed. “Mom, I'm like him.”

His mother stopped scooping up her food. “You're what?”

“I'm a magic user.” Stating it straight-out would be the easiest. It was like pulling off a Band-aid, Dongmin realized; the quicker he did it, the less it would probably hurt in the long-run. “A mind-reader. I've been able to read minds since I was about six years old, which is usually when the magic starts developing in children.” Dongmin didn't stop eating. He relished the shock and terror on his mother's face.

This was _new_. This was _different_. He wondered how life would change for him.

“Don't play around like this, Dongmin,” she snapped.

“I'm not.”

“ _Dongmin_.”

“For example, right now you're thinking that you should punish me by taking away my phone.” His mother's eyes were growing steadily larger, rounder, and Dongmin smiled brightly at her before removing his phone from his pocket. “Here.” He passed it over. She didn't take it. “Mother, here. I'll go ahead and accept my punishment.”

His mother pointed at him. “You're...you're a-?”

“Also, I'd rather not be a doctor. That's _your_ dream, not my own. You've never given me a chance to pursue what I would like to in life.”

“ _You're_ -”

“-a mind-reader? Yes.”

His mother fainted then, and Dongmin was thankful (for once) for the medical knowledge that he had learned throughout all his years of tutoring. He was able to quickly revive her with a few light smacks to her cheek, and he tried to help her over to the couch to rest, but she pulled violently away from him.

“Don't touch me!” she screeched.

Dongmin wondered if this sort of sudden pain in his chest was something Myungjun had experienced on a daily basis.

“Mom-”

“Don't _call_ me that!” His mother was crying now, and she scooted away from him. It was a pitiful sight, really; a frail woman trying to drag herself away from her grown son. Dongmin swallowed thickly. “You're not my son!”

“You never treated me as one, anyway,” Dongmin responded, struggling not to cry. He knew this was coming, but he assumed mothers would love their children regardless of their lack of normalcy. At least Myungjun could come home to loving parents; Dongmin didn't realize that his mother would project her theories of evil magic users onto her own son. “You treated me like a _product_. You never gave me an actual childhood! You drilled it into my head early in life that I was _above_ everyone, that I was going to be a doctor, that this was all I was good for!”

His mother wasn't listening. Dongmin peered into her mind for a second, pulling back when he saw nothing but blind rage and anguish.

“You _monster_!” she screamed, and she reached up at the dinner table to grab a plate. She threw it, something Dongmin did not expect, and he had only a quick second to put his hands up to block the plate. It shattered upon hitting his arm, slicing the skin before the pieces fell down to the floor. Instantly, blood well up and began to drip down to Dongmin's hand. He stared at the wound in shock, then turned his eyes to his mother.

“Mom-” he choked out, unable to comprehend the fact that she had even thought of doing such a thing.

One more glance into her mind informed him that she was about to grab the cutting knife they had used for the meat. She really _didn't_ view him as a son any longer.

Then he had no more reason to stay.

He hurried away from the dining room, trying to push out his mother's screaming, and he gathered a few belongings. By the time he came back down, his mother was on the phone, yelling that a magic user was in her house and threatening to kill her.

Dongmin didn't even try to calm her down. He knew it wouldn't work. He left instead, away from the large house he had called home for many years, away from the mundane life of studying and tutoring, away from the woman who cast him aside because of abilities he was unable to control.

He cried long and hard, passing many people in the streets and sidewalks, _normal_ people who simply glanced at him in confusion, as he set out to begin a new life for himself.

Logic quickly took over emotion, fortunately enough. He supposed he _could_ thank his mother for creating him to think quickly and rationally over situations. Before she cut him off completely, then, he made his way to the bank and withdrew his entire savings account. He opened a new account some time later, after having secured himself an apartment space, and from there he attended the local university, studying criminal justice and staying _far_ away from any subjects relating to science or nursing. He wanted to shake off any influence his mother might have left over; he wanted to shake off his _mother_.

And to do that, he ended up becoming the head detective of the police department the same year he graduated.

He considered it a great honor, and when people asked how he became so talented, he simply laughed and responded, “I just studied extremely hard and became very much in tune with how people work.” In reality, however, he was able to read the minds of the people he interviewed as witnesses, victims, or suspects. Generally he could nab villains in less than a week, reading their mind for their involvement in crimes and then asking questions that would manage to trick them into admitting as such.

It was fantastic; the pay was amazing and his coworkers all admired him. He was able to work alone, as well, since they considered him skilled enough to not need much assistance.

At least, he was able to work alone until the police chief one day greeted him by announcing, “We have a junior detective for you to train.”

Dongmin, carrying his briefcase and coffee, blinked at the chief. “What?”

“A junior detective,” the police chief repeated. “He's fresh out of college. He took the exam and passed with a score higher even than yours was.”

Dongmin didn't believe that. He shook his head slowly. “I don't _need_ a partner.”

“If you don't like working with him, it really won't be for long,” the police chief responded. “We can just train him up and then transfer him to another branch. I know you're extremely talented on your own, I just think it would be good to have somebody new to this field learn from our best detective in all of Korea!”

Such flattery _should_ get the police chief nowhere, but Dongmin realized he was a sucker for attention. He pretended as if he was still in thought, despite having already decided that he would certainly mold this junior detective into someone great.

Not as great as him (though, he figured, it was of no fault of this junior detective's – he just wasn't a mind reader). Not as great, but maybe _close_ enough, if he was really as smart as the chief was making him out to be.

“Is he here?” Dongmin finally asked, giving a long-suffering sigh. The chief grinned widely and nodded his head.

“He's waiting. Come on, I'll show you to him.”

He was led into the police chief's office and was shocked to see a man completely decked out in costume. It was clearly made to be a detective outfit, with the deerstalker hat, a fine suit, and even a cape with the collar turned up. Dongmin was about to leave, but when the man turned around, Dongmin changed his mind.

The man had a plastic pipe in his mouth.

This was interesting.

“Moon Bin, this is our head detective, Detective Lee Dongmin. Dongmin, this is your new junior detective, Moon Bin,” the chief introduced.

Moon Bin's pipe nearly fell out of his mouth. “I got the job?” he questioned. His voice cracked slightly with excitement, and Dongmin wondered why he found it so endearing.

“Apparently so,” Dongmin mumbled, and when Moon Bin glanced over at him with unadulterated joy in his eyes, Dongmin felt the desire to look away. He didn't know why his face felt a little flushed, either, but when Moon Bin suddenly grinned at him, Dongmin cleared his throat.

“Why are you wearing that outfit, though?”

“Oh!” Moon Bin seemed to have just realized he was still dressed as a detective. He took the pipe out of his mouth and laughed. “I'm dressed like a detective!”

“We don't dress like that.”

“Sherlock Holmes does.”

“Who?”

He didn't know why Moon Bin suddenly looked so offended.

“I can't believe – you're a detective and you've never heard of Sherlock Holmes?” There was a loud sigh and Moon Bin continued, “He's only the coolest detective in the world! Really popular over in England – seriously, you've _never_ heard of him?”

“If he's Western, probably not. I only pay attention to Korean characters.”

Moon Bin made a face. “I'm going to make you watch Sherlock Holmes movies with me.”

“Doubtful.”

There was another face, but then Moon Bin seemed to suddenly lighten up. “Anyway!” He stuck his hand out and Dongmin glanced at it briefly before giving a slight, respectful bow of his head. When Moon Bin noticed his chosen greeting hadn't been used, the younger man blushed before letting his hand drop and returning the bow. “So...” He straightened out his cape. “When do we go investigate the murders?”

Dongmin was going to have to take plenty of medicine for headaches, he decided. They bid the police chief farewell and Dongmin led his new partner over to a desk near his own. “First, please get settled in. We'll be leaving in about ten minutes for a robbery call we had earlier today. They just need a detective to come in to assess the situation, as the CCTV cameras were not working and thus didn't catch the man, and the cashier on duty doesn't have a description.”

“Robbery sounds like fun!” Moon Bin exclaimed, and he stuck the plastic pipe back in his mouth. “Elementary, my dear Watson.”

Dongmin stared at him. “Was that English?”

“Yes!”

“Do you know what it means?”

“It's something Sherlock Holmes says. I think it means, like, _I'm ready for this_.”

Dongmin groaned and ran a hand through his hair, thus messing up the nice combing job he had completed that morning.

He should have become a doctor.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have it planned out pretty nicely, but i know i'll trip up the mystery portion of it at least once, so just let me know if something doesnt make sense. 
> 
> ALSO tell me what you think in the comments! i'd love to know if everyone is as excited about this as i am. if not, put a simple, "No quarters for you," and I'll just cry silently to myself thanks.
> 
> send quarters (preferably dollar bills, tho) [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you keep the pipe, you're going to stay in my car. So unless you want to relinquish your title of Junior Detective, lose the pipe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing mysteries is hard. im basing it all off of my love of psych, and that's basically the only mystery show i've ever seen.

Regardless of how Dongmin felt about Bin's competence, at least he was a good listener. During the car ride to the store, Bin kept quiet as Dongmin rehashed the situation.

“So the young cashier there said she had been working for a few hours when a man came in. The man had on a baseball cap and a mask and she didn't get a good look at his face at all. He pulled a knife out on her and demanded money. She knew the manager was in the back room and she wanted to scream out for him, but he told her if she made a sound, he would kill her. So she just unlocked the register and handed them all of the money that she had.”

Bin wasn't even taking notes, and Dongmin wondered how long the kid would actually last as a detective.

“How much money was taken?” Bin asked.

“The manager is trying to figure that out.”

“And there was no CCTV footage?”

Dongmin shook his head as he turned into the parking lot. “They had one, but it broke about a week or two ago.”

“Convenient for the robber, isn't it?” Bin smiled brightly as he moved to exit Dongmin's car, but the head detective stopped him suddenly.

“Take off the hat.”

Bin sighed. “It's a deerstalker-”

“I don't care, take it off. It isn't very professional.” Fortunately, Bin did as he requested, but Dongmin wasn't through. “And the cape. It looks ridiculous, Moon Bin.” He could endure Bin's pouting if it meant they wouldn't look like total fools during the investigation. “And leave that plastic pipe here.”

“Are you kidding me?” Bin waved his plastic pipe around near Dongmin's face. “This is iconic for detectives, Detective Lee! Come on, just let me keep the pipe.”

Dongmin shook his head. “If you keep the pipe, you're going to stay in my car. So unless you want to relinquish your title of Junior Detective, lose the pipe.”

Bin appeared to truly think things through before finally submitting to Dongmin's request. He laid the pipe down on the seat with another loud sigh and got out of the vehicle. Dongmin joined him, wondering why he felt so much like smiling over his partner's stupidity. It didn't make any sense, so he brushed aside his slight amusement to focus on the case at hand.

The building already had a few police officers lingering about inside, some of them taking notes and others speaking to the manager. Dongmin was easily able to guess who the cashier was; the only girl, and an extremely nervous-looking one at that.

“This case might be pretty cut and dry. Very simple robbery,” he muttered to Bin before leading him over to the cashier. “Hello, ma'am? I'm Head Detective Lee Dongmin, and this is my partner, Moon Bin. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if possible.”

The girl cleared her throat. “The police already asked me. I told them everything I know.”

“It's just some more general questions,” Dongmin assured her, taking out his notepad. “So what time did this occur, exactly?”

The girl was eyeing Bin warily. Dongmin didn't blame her; the kid was still wearing a fancy, houndstooth-patterened suit. He looked extremely out of place, and extremely ridiculous. “It was around eight thirty. This man just came in – I didn't get a good look at his face, I couldn't see too many details because of his hat and mask. He had a knife and I gave him all of the money we had. He ran off and I called for the manager.”

Dongmin nodded his head and scribbled down what she had told him. When he glanced back up at her, though, he quickly peered into her mind in an attempt to learn of any details she might be withholding.

_I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this_ , she thought, and Dongmin blinked. He concentrated harder. _But he was struggling and I knew the CCTV cameras were off. We can deposit the money once I get home and no one will ever figure it out_.

So she was lying. This would make things easier, if he could figure out a way to get her to confess. Before he could continue his questioning, however, Bin pulled Dongmin aside and whispered, “I don't believe her.”

Dongmin hadn't expected Bin to figure it out, as well. She hadn't given any signs that she was embellishing the truth (or completely hiding it), and for a brand new junior detective to suddenly start catching onto the lie when there was no outward evidence was interesting.

“Oh?”

“Her eyes-” Bin pointed at his own eyes. “When people are telling the truth, their eyes tend to move upwards, maybe looking to the left portion of the ceiling, I don't know. Like, they're trying to recall exactly what happened. They need to remember details, anything to be of assistance, and she's not doing that. She looked straight at you the entire time and seemed certain of everything she was saying, as if she had rehearsed the perfect words.”

Dongmin felt his own eyes widen. He hadn't seen someone so intuitive before concerning body language. The case _seemed_ so cut and dry. It _seemed_ like a simple robbery, but somehow Bin had caught on quicker than Dongmin had.

Maybe Bin was worthwhile after all.

“Well, I don't know-” Dongmin didn't want to reveal he already knew she was lying. From his one glance at her mind, she appeared to have collaborated with the robber himself, but he really couldn't explain that to Bin.

“Let me try questioning her!” Bin excitedly whispered, patting Dongmin's shoulder. “I can do it!”

He might as well let Bin have a go at it. After all, Bin had uncovered the lie without any mind-reading abilities. If he floundered, Dongmin could step in and work on making her admit the truth.

“For a few minutes,” Dongmin responded, and Bin's smile probably could have lit up the entire block with how bright it was. They both turned back to the girl, who was staring nervously at them, and Bin started his line of questioning.

“How long had you guys been open before the robber came in?” he asked. He still didn't have a notebook out, so Dongmin rolled his eyes and began taking notes for him.

“We open at six,” she responded calmly, hands behind her back. “So I guess two and a half hours?”

Bin nodded his head. “And you'd already had customers come in, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. People had already bought things?”

She nodded, and Bin snapped his fingers at Dongmin. Dongmin was about to explain how rude it was to snap at people, but Bin didn't give him the chance to. “Detective Lee, please write down that the cash register most likely had close to, let's say, five hundred and fifty thousand won-”

“It wasn't that much,” the girl quickly cut in, shaking her head. “Not even close!”

“Did you get how close it might have been, then?” Bin asked, looking interested.

“Um...I think it was closer to a hundred thousand.”

“From my understanding, however, you didn't give the police a number,” Bin replied. “You told them you didn't know.”

The girl appeared flustered, and she stammered out, “The-the robber was counting some of it-”

“So you handed him over the money, and with a knife in his hand, he started counting it?” When he didn't receive a reply, Bin snapped once more at Dongmin. “Hand me that pencil. It'll be my knife, and I'll try and count money while holding that threateningly up at her.”

The girl glanced around frantically. “Y-You're being unfair!” she exclaimed, and her hands came up to cross over her chest. Dongmin definitely recognized the defensive stance, and he realized that Bin was actually doing a fantastic job in making her break. “I'm the victim here!”

“Victims don't typically collaborate with the robber.”

The girl's eyes widened, and Bin continued. “None of this adds up, if you don't mind me saying. You told the police originally that you don't know how much the robber took, but you _really_ made certain I knew that he didn't take five hundred thousand won. And rather than brushing that off by saying that you wouldn't have had enough customers in the store to even have five hundred thousand won, you instead told me that, in that short minute the robber was in and out of the store, he managed to count out only up to a hundred thousand won. What type of robber takes the time to count out the money he's robbing?”

When he didn't receive a response, Bin smiled brightly. “Lying to the police will get you more time in prison,” he said. “So why don't you just tell us exactly what happened, and we'll figure out what to do from there?”

“I'm not lying!”

“Then you won't say no to coming to the station for a lie detector test, would you?” Bin asked, and Dongmin wanted to tell him that they really didn't have the authority at the moment to hook up the supposed victim to a lie detector test, but Bin seemed to know what he was doing. The girl was panicking, shuffling her feet and running her fingers through her hair. “If you're not lying, you'll pass and then I'll issue out a full-blown apology to you, ma'am. But if you are lying-”

“He just needed the money!” the girl blurted out finally, nearly in tears. “My boyfriend really needed money and pressured me into agreeing to this, I swear! I was just trying to help him!” She really did begin to cry, and Bin reached out and gave her shoulder a small pat. “He told me what to say, I was just helping my boyfriend!”

Bin gestured for a policeman to come as Dongmin watched in shock.

He had never seen anyone work so quickly and efficiently before. He had never seen anyone take apart simple eye movements and base guilt off of that. It was actually rather impressive, and as the police were told of the situation and handcuffed the girl, Dongmin had to struggle to wipe the awe off of his face.

Fortunately, by the time Bin was turning back to him, Dongmin's expression was indifferent.

“How was that?” Bin asked, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his fine suit. “Did I do a good job?”

Dongmin closed his notebook and cleared his throat. “Well, honestly,” he mumbled, “I might have been expecting just a tad bit more from you. You really cant' focus on their eye movement as a way to interrogate them. You need to listen to their words, as well.”

“I did!” Bin announced. “I listened to what she said and managed to trip her up!” When Dongmin shrugged his shoulders, Bin gave a pout. “You're just jealous because you couldn't get to her in time.”

“Jealous?” Dongmin scoffed. “That's a little ridiculous. I gave you the chance to interrogate her, and you excelled. I'm pleased, don't misunderstand me. Just...”

“Are you shocked, then?”

He had to admit that he was. He really didn't expect Bin to get anywhere, and he sighed. “Let's just go back to the station. We'll have some paperwork to file, and we need to issue a warrant for her boyfriend's arrest.”

Bin followed him back to the car, and once they were seated, the younger man happily put back on his deerstalker and his cape. Dongmin didn't even try to stop him this time.

“Did you know?” Bin suddenly asked once they were driving down the road.

“Know what?”

“That she was lying.”

Dongmin found the question difficult to answer. He couldn't allow Bin to know his magical ability, so even if he _did_ know, he would then have to come up with en explanation as to _how_ he knew. However, if he told Bin he had no clue, then he would feel embarrassed and humiliated to have been shown up by a junior detective who had just completed his first case in record time.  
“I had a hunch,” is what he went with instead. “And I like to rely on my hunches.”

“I bet you would have investigated her the exact same way, too!” Bin replied cheerfully. “You seem like a pretty intelligent detective. The police chief told me you've solved more cases than he can count. I'm getting trained by the best, I guess!”

That brought back some of Dongmin's pride, and he nodded his head to Bin's statement. “Ah, but it is better that you took this one. It was a very good chance to prove yourself, and I'm happy that you succeeded. I have no doubt you will shape up to become a fine junior detective.”

He was shocked that Bin didn't answer, and when he glanced over, he noticed a light blush dotting the boy's nose and cheeks, spreading out across tan skin. When Bin caught Dongmin's eyes, he quickly pulled the collar of his cape up higher in order to hide the red splotches. “You don't have to be all gushy about it.”

Why did Bin keep making Dongmin want to smile? It was getting more and more difficult to hide, too, and Dongmin had to look away in order to deny himself the _chance_ to smile at Bin. It was ridiculous, really, and he wondered if he could transfer Bin anyway for his own relief. He couldn't work if he started to find Bin endearing.

“I'm not being gushy,” Dongmin responded as he pulled back into the police station. “You're just taking it in a gushy way, for some odd reason. And, oh my _god_ , just put all of that Sherlock Holmes nonsense in your car.”

“No!” Bin stuffed the pipe in his mouth. “It helped me solve this case! I'm going to wear this until I die, probably, because now it's my lucky outfit.”

“If you wear it tomorrow, I seriously won't allow you to join me on the next case.”

Bin pouted before exiting the vehicle and walking alongside Dongmin into the station. The girl was already there, still crying as the police filled out her paperwork. “Can I just wear it today, please?”

Dongmin sighed. “Just for today,” he mumbled. “I do have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“How on earth did you learn all of that? I've met with multiple men who wish to become detectives, and none of them are even slightly as intuitive as you are.”

He wondered if Bin was a mind-reader himself. That would make the most sense, and Dongmin _hoped_ that was the case. If it was, Dongmin wouldn't be so alone anymore. He would have somebody he could confide in and talk to and relate with on a more personal level.

Bin just shrugged. “I've always picked up on things better than a lot of people, I guess. I don't know why, I'm just good at it.”

He was _very_ good at it. Too good. There had to be _something_ there, and so Dongmin issued a quick apology to the heavens (he hated using his magic against those who were innocent) before dipping into Bin's mind.

There was nothing there.

He couldn't detect a single thought, a single image, a single _word_. It was almost as if his powers had suddenly stopped working. Some sort of shield had blocked Dongmin's attempts to penetrate into Bin's mind, and it was something that had never happened to him before.

“What?” Bin suddenly asked.

“Huh?”

“You're staring at me as if I've grown two heads. What is it?” Bin looked slightly concerned, but Dongmin waved him off.

“Just...just go work on a write-up of what happened today, please.”

Bin eyed him for a few seconds longer before shrugging his shoulders and plopping down at his desk.

Were his powers gone? Dongmin had no idea what had happened. He tried again, but after a few seconds worth of hard effort, he found he couldn't uncover a _thing_ going on in Bin's mind.

To ensure he hadn't suddenly lost his magical ability, he glanced at a coworker and dipped into his mind.

_I can't believe my wife bought new lingerie and is sending me teasing pictures while I'm at work. Just wait until I get home-_

His powers worked. Dongmin blinked and ran a hand across his face before taking a seat. His own thoughts were muddled and filled with nothing but confusion.

Who _was_ Moon Bin?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'll probably come out with a jincha fic sometime soon, simply because i want to plan ahead in this story and it's difficult to plan ahead for me. so oneshot jincha is on the horizon.
> 
> also, there will be an actual big plot in this story, not just romance like witchcraft was. something new to try out for me, lol, i'm going to fail with it miserably, but send me dollar bills regardless [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn't even wear my Sherlock Holmes costume today, and you're still upset for some reason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanted to get this out today for you guys, holla for a dolla.

There were various points in Dongmin's life where he wished he had someone he could talk to concerning his own magical powers. Having Myungjun as a friend had been fantastic, as the two of them could discuss problems and issues for hours, but he had only known Myungjun for a short time period and he highly doubted the boy would remember him, anyway. Besides that, there had been one or two other magical people he had run into over the course of his career, but no one he had become close enough with to actually talk to.

As such, he was alone in trying to figure out the mystery that was Moon Bin.

Part of him wanted to believe that perhaps Moon Bin just didn't _have_ any thoughts. Perhaps he just wasn't thinking anything at the time. Perhaps he was used to mind readers somehow, and had managed a way to block off his mind from anyone reading it. Though, from what Dongmin had studied, it was impossible to do such a thing.

So he did what any mind reader facing a crisis would do – he took a walk. The park near his apartment offered a nature trail down a wooded path, and it had always helped clear Dongmin's thoughts before. Perhaps if he were to clear his mind (quite like Bin had somehow done), he would be able to concentrate properly on figuring out who exactly his partner was.

He read a few minds along the way, peering closely into the heads of people he passed. A little girl was concerned that her parents wouldn't get her the doll she wanted for her birthday, an elderly man was reminiscing about his deceased wife, and a younger adult was imagining what life would be like had he actually attended university.

So his powers worked just fine on everyone _but_ Moon Bin.

He wondered if Bin was another magic user. That made the most sense, but, then again, Dongmin had never heard of a magic user who was able to cancel out other magic. Witches probably couldn't even do that, and witches were the most powerful of all magic users.

He wondered if Bin was an alien, but that was absolutely ridiculous; aliens didn't even exist.

At the end of his walk, he was left with more questions than answers, and decided that the walk was absolutely worthless.

He stewed over Bin's identity for a little while longer before finally giving up on figuring it out. Perhaps he wasn't as great a detective as he thought he was. He relied on mind-reading for practically everything, and to suddenly have the ability snatched from him was a slight shock. And not only could Bin block Dongmin's abilities, but he also scored higher than Dongmin did on the exams to become a detective, and he had solved a case in record-breaking time, without even employing the use of mind-reading abilities.

Life sucked for Dongmin right then, and he longed to rant to someone he was close to, but closing himself off to other magic users had really screwed him over there, and all he could do for the evening was pour himself a glass of wine and pretend that he _wasn't_ incredibly jealous and frustrated with Junior Detective Moon Bin.

His jealousy stayed with him until the next day, and the moment Bin walked into the police department doors, Dongmin tried to read his mind again.

Nothing was shown. Instead, Bin just blinked at him in confusion.

“Why are you glaring at me like that?” he asked.

Dongmin sighed and moved to sit right back down at his desk again. “I wasn't glaring.”

“You were.” Bin looked down at his outfit choice and commented, “I didn't even wear my Sherlock Holmes costume today, and you're still upset for some reason.”

“No, you _didn't_ wear that, but you still look – why do you have a trenchcoat?”

Bin grinned widely in response, and when he took a seat at the desk adjacent to Dongmin's, he answered, “I'm channeling another one of the coolest detectives in the world.”

“Oh, god.”

“Now, Detective Lee, don't be like that!” Bin scolded lightly, wagging a finger in Dongmin's direction. “These disguises help me blend in and solve crimes.”

“You'd blend in more without a trenchcoat,” Dongmin mumbled, and he pulled a file from one of his drawers. “Who are you supposed to be today, anyway?”

“Columbo!” Bin readily supplied, and when he noticed Dongmin's lack of interest, he said, in English, “Oh, and just one more thing.”

“And why do you keep speaking in English?”

“That's something Columbo says when he's about to catch the bad guy.”

Dongmin nodded. “Mm _hmm_. And what does it mean?”

Finally, Bin didn't have a rapid response for Dongmin. Instead, the younger man thought it over for a few seconds before murmuring, “I think it's, like, Columbo saying, _you're guilty!_ ”

Dongmin hardly felt gratitude toward his mother, but at that moment, he was very thankful that she had forced him to take English lessons as a child, if only so he could laugh at Bin for completely butchering English translations. Though his laugh did come out as more of a giggle, and he surprisingly felt warmth rather than mockery in his heart. Bin, even, looked a bit surprised, but the junior detective's face displayed yet another blush after a few seconds, and he looked away from Dongmin.

“Maybe it doesn't, then,” Bin quickly stated. “But I still can't believe you became a detective and you don't know any of the famous detectives. I mean, _Sherlock Holmes_? Seriously? My mom's not a detective, and even _she_ knows Sherlock Holmes!” Bin scoffed, but then mumbled, “Maybe because that's all I talked about as a child.”

“Did you always want to be a detective?” Dongmin's question threw even _him_ off guard. He wasn't supposed to be so interested in Bin's life. He honestly didn't care, and yet he found himself curious as to how Bin must have acted as a younger child.

“Yeah.” Bin nodded his head eagerly. “Ever since I read Sherlock Holmes, I wanted to be just like him! And so I started watching all of the detective shows I could. Most of my favorites are Western tv shows, like Columbo and Sherlock Holmes, but I like some anime ones, too.”

Bin's enthusiasm for the career was admirable, definitely, but something about it reminded Dongmin of the child-like enthusiasm he had witnessed before in various children he had gone to school with. Those children typically grew out of their excitement after a few years, but Bin really had stuck to it, and he had even managed to secure his dream.

Dongmin was slightly envious of that. His only dream throughout childhood had been the one his mother had implanted into him. He never got the chance to yearn for something more until he was already almost an adult, and then he simply became a detective because it was something he was good at, something he knew he could use his powers for. Bin became a detective because it was something he longed to do.

Dongmin didn't know yet what it was _he_ wanted to do with his life. Detective work certainly paid the bills, and then some, and he was enjoying the work given to him, but he wasn't as enthused about it as Bin was. Should he have been?

Bin noticed the fact that Dongmin was silently stewing over his own thoughts, and he asked, “How about you, Detective Lee? Did you always want to do this with your life?”

Dongmin glanced up suddenly and blinked. “Hm? Oh...I don't know, really. It's just something I'm good at.”

Bin grinned again and gave Dongmin a thumbs-up. “From all that I've heard, it's something you're the best at! I requested specifically to be taught by the best detective in all of Korea, you know.”

“Did you?”

Bin nodded his head. “I've read about all of the cases you've solved. You're a hero to all detectives everywhere!”

His words were too much, and even though Dongmin told himself to ignore Bin's praise, he couldn't help it when he felt the corners of his lips pull up in a smile. Bin instantly caught sight of that smile and returned it brightly. “And you have the best smile I've ever seen! Detective Lee, you're the best!”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Dongmin stated, trying to hide his smile with his hand.

“I can try, can't I? Wow, Detective Lee, what great hair you have!”

Dongmin also couldn't help the small giggle that escaped his mouth. He definitely saw the pleased look that cross Bin's face, and he turned away quickly. “Ah, let's – no more flattering. We need to get to work.”

“Yes, sir, Detective Lee.” Bin, too, turned back to his desk and looked through some of the files they had been given. “Are these older cases?”

“Yes. We're just going over them to ensure they're accurate and up to date.”

“That doesn't sound as fun as investigation.”

“We have nothing to investigate right now,” Dongmin responded, but he probably jinxed the situation. The police chief called them right then for an impromptu meeting, and Bin was the first one to excitedly hurry into the conference room.

The briefing for the case was quick; the police chief was entirely under the impression that it was nothing more than a small issue of a runaway teenager.

“But it _could_ be a kidnapping,” Bin supplied, looking extremely hopeful. Dongmin nudged him, and the younger man gave him a quick huff. “I'm not saying I _want_ it to be one. I'm just saying, if the mom is this worried about it and the kid has never had any runaway tendencies before, isn't it a little too early to completely be on board with the runaway angle? I mean, there's a lot of different things it _could_ be.”

“Which is why you and Detective Lee will be investigating,” the police chief responded. “I have the mother's address here. She's extremely torn up about it, and the police she called down who have already looked at the scene found absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. No signs of struggle. It appears the boy left on his own. The mother is not convinced, however, and so we're sending you two in, just to double-check.”

The meeting ended with Dongmin and Bin bowing slightly to the chief before heading out to the parking lot. Bin yelled, “Shotgun!” before Dongmin could say anything, and hopped into the passenger seat.

“ _I'm_ the driver,” Dongmin responded in a mumble. He started the car. “Of course you'll be sitting shotgun.”

Bin laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “When I was younger, I had to fight my little sister for shotgun. It's just something I say at this point. You should do it, too.”

“I'm the one with the car. I'm not going to sit in the passenger seat ever.”

“Maybe one day you'll ask _me_ to drive. I got my driver's license a few weeks ago.” Bin wiggled his eyebrows, and Dongmin wondered why he found Bin so endearing. Bin was lame and weird and a little stupid. He shouldn't find any of those traits _endearing_.

“Doubtful. I like my car, and I'm not going to entrust it to someone who just started driving a few weeks ago.”

“Maybe _one day_ ,” Bin repeated, and even though Dongmin rolled his eyes, he still felt that familiar smile trying to force its way back on his face.

The drive over there was short, filled with a few questions from Bin (“What do we do if it _does_ become a simple runaway teenager?” and “Has the mother given us permission to look over the house?” were Dongmin's favorite – his least favorite question was, “What does the English phrase, _just one more thing_ , really mean, Detective Lee?”). Once they arrived, Bin was the first out of the car, though he did await Dongmin's instructions.

“I'm going to question her first,” Dongmin instantly told Bin. He had to get a good reading on the woman's mind before taking the next step. “So just hang back, and if there's anything I might have missed, please feel free to break in _after_ I'm done speaking.”

“Right.” Bin nodded his head, and Dongmin hoped the man could take instructions well enough.

The woman who answered the door was distraught, clearly upset, her hands wringing onto a dishtowel she must have been using for cleaning purposes. Dongmin greeted her with a bow of his head. “Hello, I'm Detective Lee, and this is my partner, Detective Moon. I understand that you requested a more complete investigation, as you do not believe your son ran away on his own free will, correct?”

The mother was nearly about to burst into tears. Dongmin had no idea how to best comfort a crying woman, so he simply stood there as the lady struggled to compose herself.

“Yongjin is a good boy,” she stammered out, and her voice nearly caught in her throat. “He always did s-so well in school, and he bought me gifts – he would have _never_ run away, he had a-a girlfriend and a future, I don't understand-”

“It happened two days ago, correct?” Dongmin asked, taking out his notebook. He pretended not to notice Bin peering over his shoulder at what he was writing. When the mother nodded her head, Dongmin continued, “And he hasn't made any sort of contact since then?”

“N-No.”

The woman sniffed, and Dongmin glanced up at her. A quick read-through of her mind offered no explanation except for fear and panic. Clearly the mother had nothing to do with it, and she obviously had no idea what had happened. Dongmin felt a bout of pity for her, but he quickly shook it off and glanced over at Bin. “I have no further questions.”

Bin blinked, then cleared his throat. “You said he has a girlfriend, correct? Do you suspect she had anything to do with it?”

“No, ne-never. She loved him.”

“Maybe he ran off to be with her?” Bin asked. The theory was sound, but Dongmin highly doubted it was the case. The mother seemed to doubt it, too, as she shook her head.

“He never made rash decisions, an-and I had given them my blessing already. He had no reason to leave.”

When it appeared Bin didn't have anymore questions, Dongmin asked, “Do you mind if we poke around in his room for a little bit? We're looking for anything that can help us with Yongjin's departure.”

She allowed it, trying to control her sniffles as she showed them were the boy's room was, and she let them be after that. Bin was the first to begin looking around, and he sighed. “This room is _really_ clean.”

“Are you not used to clean rooms?”

“Not what I meant, Detective Lee.”

“I've seen your desk, Bin, and it's only your second day on the job.”

“Not all of us are as meticulous as you, I guess.” Bin pulled on his gloves, so as to not contaminate the room should it suddenly turn out to be a crime scene, and picked up one of the books by the bedside table. “So he was studying a lot. Look at all of his notes.”

Dongmin glanced over from the dresser he was going through. “He was studying to become a doctor, it looked like.” He remembered his own childhood, and he mumbled, “Maybe the pressure was too much on him. Maybe he didn't want to end up a product of his mother's wishes.”

Bin gave a small hum, possibly agreement, possibly disagreement. Dongmin couldn't tell, and when he looked back again at Bin's thoughtful expression, he so desperately _wished_ that he could read Bin's mind right then.

“His phone is still here,” Bin suddenly announced after having looked over the desk.

“Really?” Dongmin hurried from his spot and stood beside Bin as the younger man looked the decive over. “Why would he leave without his phone?”

“Don't know.” Bin turned the screen on and swiped across to unlock it. There were multiple missed text messages from people Bin mentioned were, “Probably school friends,” and more than a few from the girlfriend his mother had talked about. “Some people called him, too.”

Dongmin continued to peer over Bin's shoulder as they went through the phone. Some of the calls were from unknown numbers, whereas a good majority of them were from actual contacts, probably people worried about his whereabouts.

After a few more minutes of investigating the phone, Dongmin sighed and was ready to call it quits, but then Bin pointed something else out. “His wallet is here, too.”

It was hidden partially underneath an open book, still filled with cash and cards, and Dongmin suddenly realized that this might _have_ been more than just a simple runaway teen. What teenager would leave his wallet and phone while disappearing off into unknown locations? It didn't make any sense.

Nothing else in the room was out of the ordinary, and Bin groaned in frustration as they bid the mother farewell and began to make their way back to the police department. “This is _really_ weird. Do you think he ran away, Detective Lee?”

Dongmin hesitated before responding, “I honestly don't know what to think. There's absolutely no sign of any foul play. He left around eight o'clock at night, correct? I understand why his mother thinks it was a kidnapping, but by all the evidence we have, it was on his own free will. He was home, his mother heard the front door open, and then he was gone. No sign of struggle or home invasion. It's...it's bizarre.”

“Exactly.” Bin nodded his head. “And if it _was_ a runaway situation, he definitely would have taken his wallet or phone. No bank activity from him, no calls, no _nothing_.”

Dongmin sighed loudly. “But we have no evidence to continue investigation. I'll have the police keep an eye out for anyone matching Yongjin's description, and we can go investigate some CCTV cameras around the area that might have picked him up, but that's all we can do at the moment.”

Bin looked irritated at that; clearly he, too, believed there was far more to this case, and to help quell both of their frustrations, Dongmin said, “How about we go speak to a few of the friends? A lot of children will spill more to their friends than they will their own parents, no matter how close they might be to their mom or dad.” Dongmin thought of his own childhood, too, of the one and only person who actually had been aware of his secret for the longest of times, and realized that perhaps Yongjin might just be like him.

Perhaps Yongjin was a magic user.

Bin didn't appear to be on the same train of thought, though he did seem to appreciate the idea of investigating further.

“Let's start with the girlfriend,” Bin said, and he buckled up again and leaned back in his seat. “And then we might be able to have our own _just one more thing_ moment.”

“That really doesn't mean what you think it means,” Dongmin mumbled, and though he had just parked his car, he started it right back up again.

“Well, _you're_ not telling me what it means, so I'm just going to go with my original guess.”

Bin had probably defined what pouting looked like, because he was doing it quite well when Dongmin glanced over at him.

And despite the fact that Dongmin hated finding Bin cute, he had to admit to himself, he found Bin _incredibly_ cute.

(And he hoped Bin really wasn't a mind-reader, because otherwise he would feel very much embarrassed.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mystery deepens! dongmin's crush that he doesn't know he has yet deepens! hopefully no one picks up on my mystery so it can continue to deepen! (also, idk if you guys know columbo, but [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biW9BbWJtQU) is the line that Bin refers to. columbo says it a lot. ive never really watched it, but my step-brother loves the line and if i even mention columbo in this house, everyone goes, _just one more thing_.)
> 
> i have fanart! [@daeminanalo](http://www.daeminanalo.tumblr.com) drew me [intern detective _moon bean_](http://www.daeminanalo.tumblr.com/post/158909105701/intern-detective-moon-bin-bc-vonseal-keeps)!!! and [@sanhasbinu](http://www.sanhasbinu.tumblr.com) drew me [plastic pipe bin](http://www.sanhasbinu.tumblr.com/post/158918790458/tbh-im-broke-with-0-dollars-in-my-bank-account)!!! i cried a little bit because these two are so nice to me (and sanhasbinu has an a03 account and is currently writing one of my faves, [problems with pastry](http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/10402029/chapters/22970670), which is such a fun myungjin fic, check it out yo).
> 
> if you want to talk to me, or shower me with money, send those dollar bills to [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com). thanks for reading and sticking with me!!!


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pretended he wasn't blushing from possibly getting a look at what had appeared to be a very impressive six-pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be more magic later down the road. i have 8 and a half chapters all planned out and we'll _probably_ have more magic using in chapter 9? idk, until then, i'm setting up the binu, yo.

No matter who they spoke to, everyone had something very similar to say; Yongjin was a good kid. Yongjin would have _never_ run away from home in such a manner. Yongjin was kind and helpful and smart and loved his mother, so why _would_ he have run away?

“Were you close to him?” Bin was just asking the third student they had spoken to that day from Yongjin's high school. The girlfriend had offered no explanation as to the whereabouts of her boyfriend (and after Dongmin read her mind, he determined that she wasn't lying; Bin just assumed she wasn't, he said, based off of her body language, and, once again, Dongmin had wondered just _who_ Bin was), and Yongjin's best friend simply seemed worried. The third girl was someone who had been slowly easing her way into Yongjin's friend group; she seemed like an unbiased choice, someone who wouldn't just spout good things, someone who might reveal information she had.

Or so Bin said. Dongmin had just used his abilities to figure out she knew absolutely nothing. However, he was at a dead-end, and he figured he might as well let Bin interrogate a few more people before heading back to the office to be cooped up with those old files. It was good practice, in any case.

The girl shook her head in response to Bin's question. “I've been friends with his girlfriend for a while. Yongjin and I just found out we had some similarities, so we started hanging out together. He really _doesn't_ seem like the sort to just run away from home.”

“That's what we think,” Bin replied, gesturing over to Dongmin. “None of it adds up to us, either.”

“Bin.” Dongmin stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Let's not give out information about or investigation to people we're talking to, alright?”

Bin ignored him and continued. “Do you remember Yongjin acting funny recently? Maybe he scored low on a test, or maybe he had a fight with his girlfriend?”

“No.” The girl was shaking her head again. “He had actually just gotten elected as class president, and he's still in love with his girlfriend. Nothing _different_ , if that's what you're asking.”

Bin sighed and looked as if he was struggling to think of more questions, but Dongmin decided to interrupt once again. “Thank you so much for your time,” he commented, grabbing Bin's arm. “We won't waste anymore of your day with our questions. Rest assured, however, we _will_ be looking for Yongjin, and we're determined to find him.” He bowed to her, and then forced Bin to do the same thing.

“Detective Lee-” Bin argued as Dongmin dragged him away. “We could have tried to figure out some more from her!”

“She doesn't know anything,” Dongmin responded. “And you know it.”

Bin was pouting again, and he finally pulled himself away from Dongmin's grip. “She doesn't, but she might have been subconsciously aware of something different. If we had asked about his habits day to day, maybe something would have been different that she never even picked up on.”

“Nothing would have been different.”

“Then we can try interviewing other people!”

Dongmin sighed, and once he and Bin were out at the car, he shook his head. “Bin, the more we investigate, the more it becomes apparent that it seems to be a simple case of a runaway teenager. Perhaps he just had more pressure on him than we know. He _was_ voted in as class president, and he was expected to always do well on quizzes and tests. It might have just gotten to him and he snapped.”

“Without grabbing either his phone or his wallet?”

“He was a smart kid. He might have known he could have been tracked through either his phone or his wallet.” The more Dongmin assured Bin that it _was_ just the case of a runaway teenager, the more Dongmin himself believed it. His initial concerns about the case were dwindling away, replaced instead by irritation that he had actually been wrong this time around. “Let's just get back to the station. We have a lot of older files to go through.”

“But Detective Lee, I-”

“Bin, come on.”

Bin must have noticed how disappointed Dongmin was, because he ended up nodding his head and opening the passenger seat of Dongmin's car. “I still think it was something else. We're missing something.”

Dongmin didn't want to get Bin's hopes up, so he didn't respond. Instead, he drove them back to the police station in silence, and he didn't speak again until they were at their respective desks and Bin asked what he was even supposed to be doing.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, _painfully_ so, as the two detectives stewed over the case. Dongmin wondered if his own powers were weakening. He had never before heard of a magic user losing their powers, but as he couldn't read Bin's mind and he couldn't uncover any evidence during this case at all, it must have been his powers weakening.

The thought both excited and terrified him. Should he become normal, he would no longer have to live in fear of being called out, of being _found_ out. He could actually experience what it was like to live without any sort of anxiety over anyone learning what his true identity was.

However, mind reading was an ability that was quite easy to hide, and he employed that to good usage. Without his ability, he would probably no longer be able to work as a detective; he didn't have Bin's keen second-sense to understand body language and when exactly people were lying. All he had was his mind-reading power, and should that disappear, he would have nothing.

Perhaps a career as a doctor wouldn't be so bad, however. He had studied for it his entire life, and he knew it would be a cinch to get into medical school. And, sure, it would be more years of studying and working hard over classwork late into the nights, but if he needed a way to provide for himself, that was probably the quickest path to do so.

Then again, he bitterly thought as he harshly stuffed one of his files with old case papers, that would be fulfilling the wishes of his mother, and he would be damned if he gave her even a fraction of what she wanted.

The end of the day couldn't have come quick enough. Bin had been silent throughout the entire ordeal, leaving Dongmin alone with thoughts of his future, and he definitely hated it.

He opened his mouth to speak to his partner, but Bin had already thrown that stupid overcoat back over his body and was walking away, collar turned up in some form of dramatic exit.

Apparently, Dongmin didn't want to give Bin what _he_ wanted, either. There wouldn't be any ridiculous exits like that in Dongmin's time, no sir. “Bin?” he called out, and perhaps his lighter tone was what made Bin stop and glance back over at him. Inquisitive eyes bored into Dongmin's own gaze, and Dongmin was the first to look away, trying to keep his composure. What was it about Bin that made him always feel so absolutely flustered? Perhaps Bin _was_ a magic user of some sort. Perhaps Bin was a witch.

Regardless of what Bin was or wasn't, he sure did have a disarming gaze, and Dongmin took one deep breath before meeting it again.

“You and I _both_ believe there is something more to this case, correct?” He could see Bin nod slightly, could see slight hope in his expression, and so Dongmin continued. “I was going to go stew over it myself, but it would be nice to have some company, if you'd like to come with me.”

“Where at?”

Dongmin supposed that was a confirmation of Bin's company, so he began to walk. As expected, Bin followed. “There's a bar close by. We can grab a few drinks – I have the case file here, as well, so we can go over anything that we might have accidentally passed over.”

Dongmin already knew that neither of them would find a thing. He had poured over it himself and there certainly wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He had read minds, and other than their concern and fear, they had no explanation as to why Yongjin suddenly ran off. Bin had even investigated, and even _he_ couldn't uncover any clues that they could put to use.

Bin seemed to recognize this as nothing more than an attempt to cheer him up, if his sudden change in expression was anything to go by, but he shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose I can go for a few drinks. Are you buying?”

Dongmin groaned and ran a hand over his hair, ensuring it was still combed back how he liked it to be. “I guess.”

If anything brightened Bin up, it was Dongmin's agreement to take over the bill. The boy smiled suddenly, his upper lip completely disappearing in such a wide grin, and Dongmin found himself slightly taken back with how _attractive_ Bin truly was.

He never thought he would be attracted to an idiot wearing an overcoat.

“Then drinks sounds perfect! Shotgun!”

“You can't-” But Bin was hurrying out, ignoring Dongmin's weak rebuttal, rushing out to the car in order to fight some nonexistent person over who got to sit _shotgun_.

And Dongmin didn't know why he smiled fondly at such stupidity.

The promise of free drinks had _definitely_ cheered Bin up a considerable amount. The moment they had arrived at the bar and gotten their drink order, Bin had gulped his all down. Dongmin, with his untouched drink in front of him and the open case file out in his lap, had simply stared in amazement.

Bin noticed after a few seconds and shot Dongmin another grin. “You said that the drinks are on you, so I'm taking advantage of that.”

“I see.” Dongmin sighed, then pointed at his case file. “We need theories, at least. _Good_ theories,” he added when Bin opened his mouth in excitement. “Nothing like _aliens_ or _ghosts_.”

Bin closed his mouth and seemed to actually think his words through for once. He ordered another drink, and while waiting for that to come, he started, “Okay, so I have this theory, but it's crazy. But you can't laugh it off or ignore it, because we're out of ideas, and this might be our best shot at finding Yongjin.”

Dongmin nodded his head and sipped slowly at his own drink. “What is it?”

“He's a magic user.”

Dongmin about spit his drink back out, but he was composed still. His eyes widened as he pushed his glass aside and stared at Bin, who nodded his head proudly at Dongmin's shock. “It might make sense,” Bin continued. “I was thinking about it a lot, and magic users, from what I've read of them, make up the largest percentage of people who run away from home, or who are kicked out. I know Yongjin wasn't kicked out, because his mother was _really_ worried, and nobody can fake the sort of worry that she had, but maybe he ran away. Maybe his mother said something about hating magic users, and he got freaked out and just darted. And like you mentioned earlier, he might have _forgotten_ his cell phone and wallet on purpose, to throw us off his trail.”

Dongmin hadn't seen any actual evidence of anyone close to Yongjin noticing anything other than normalcy, but at the same time, perhaps he hid it well. After all, Dongmin had been able to hide his own abilities until he met Myungjun, and even then, it was just _Myungjun_ who knew, until he told his own mother. Perhaps Yongjin was something similar to a mind-reader, someone who knew that everyone would despise him should he come out as a magic user.

Bin seemed to notice the acceptance of his theory on Dongmin's face, and he began to gulp down his second drink.

“Not so fast,” Dongmin warned.

“You're paying, and I feel like you'll end this trip as soon as possible to make sure I don't get a lot to drink. So I'm _going_ to drink as much as possible before then.” He gestured for another drink and pointed at Dongmin's case file. “I know nothing is in there about magic, but maybe he was able to just hide it really well. Maybe no one knew, and he just ran away because he got scared someone would find out one day.”

Dongmin looked down at the papers he had, at Yongjin's smiling school picture they had been given, at all of the kind praises everyone had for him, and realized that Bin actually might have been onto something. Magic users _were_ more likely to run away from home than normal people were. The fear of being found out might have just gotten to Yongjin, and he took the first chance he could to disappear. Maybe he was starting a new life for himself elsewhere. Maybe he just didn't want anyone to find him, because then he might have to face the hatred of his classmates, his friends, his mother, and _society_ in general.

Dongmin could very well relate, and when he looked up again, Bin was finishing off his third drink.

“Seriously, Bin, you need to slow down.”

He could tell Bin was getting a little tipsy. Dongmin wondered how often Bin had gone out drinking before this.

“I'm fine,” Bin assured him, waving his hand a little _too_ much. “Let's talk more about this case.”

“I really don't know of any valuable insight you could give me when you're drunk.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No-”

But Bin was already ordering himself yet another drink, and Dongmin glared angrily as his partner gulped that one down, too.

“Ah, this is good!” Bin exclaimed, and he pushed his empty glass aside. “Clears up my thoughts a little bit, you know? Makes me sharper and brighter.”

“That's literally the exact _opposite_ of what alcohol does,” Dongmin responded, and he closed his file. Bin wasn't going to be of any help at this point. The boy was swaying slightly in his seat, claiming he was, “Moving to the music,” but obviously just making excuses for the fact that he couldn't even sit straight anymore.

After his fifth shot, Dongmin decided he had seen enough, and he stood from his seat at the bar. His drink had hardly been touched until he said, “I'm not buying you anymore, Bin.”

And then Bin drank the rest of Dongmin's drink, ignoring his senior's shocked expression. “Don't waste alcohol,” he scolded Dongmin, and he hopped off his own stool, stumbling slightly before catching his footing and standing straight. “I'm fine!” he announced, and Dongmin stepped backwards, watching closely as Bin stumbled toward him again.

He was about to fall over, and with a groan, Dongmin wrapped a hand around Bin's waist. “I cannot _believe_ I let you do this,” he grumbled to himself as he pulled Bin over to his car. “I thought you would drink one shot and be done! This isn't how detectives operate.”

“How would you know?” Bin asked, his words slurred and a stupid smile plastered onto his face. “What are you, a detective?” He giggled as his own question, and Dongmin didn't even grace such idiocy with a response.

“Let's just get you home.”

Bin called out _shotgun_ , yelling in Dongmin's ear, and _maybe_ that attributed to Dongmin's rough handling as he shoved Bin into the passenger seat. Still, as he made out Bin's address through the younger boy's slurred speech, he couldn't help but feel the desperate longing to keep Bin safe. He was happy that Bin had gotten drunk with _him_ , rather than by himself where no one would give him limits or help him home.

Fortunately, Bin's home wasn't too far away, and Bin wasn't entirely drunk at the moment. He _was_ drunk enough to try to take off his shirt before they had even stepped inside, but the moment Dongmin saw the sliver showing of skin right above Bin's pants, he had pulled the shirt back down.

He pretended he wasn't blushing from possibly getting a look at what had appeared to be a very impressive six-pack.

“Just wait until I get the door unlocked,” he hissed, trying to sound more irritated and less flustered.

“Aye-aye, captain,” Bin mumbled, and he leaned up against the outer wall of his apartment as Dongmin finished unlocking the door.

“Here-” He helped Bin inside, and once the light was on, realized that Bin had a small dog awaiting his arrival on the couch. The dog barked once and wagged her tail. Bin cooed at the creature, but made no move to rush over to her just yet.

“That's Nancy,” Bin explained, and he nearly tripped while trying to pull his shoes off.

“I'm going to take a quick guess – is she named after a detective?”

“Nancy Drew,” Bin started, “is one of the best female detectives-”

“Of course she is.”

“-in our entire time, and she-”

“Why in the _hell_ do you keep trying to take off your shirt?” Dongmin snapped when he noticed Bin had given up on untying his shoes, and instead was pulling his shirt off over his head.

Bin didn't even stop this time. He tossed the shirt aside with a sigh, and wiggled his feet around. “The knots are too tight,” he complained. “I couldn't get it off.”

Dongmin was pleased, at least, that Bin was probably too drunk to notice the intense blush crossing over his face. He was incredibly nervous as he bent down, making certain to keep his eyes _solely_ on the shoes (and not on what definitely _was_ a very impressive six-pack). He untied them as quickly as he could with fumbling fingers, and then straightened up again. “Get to bed,” he ordered, glancing down at his watch. “It's only midnight, so you should sleep off all that alcohol by the time you need to get up tomorrow morning.”

“What's tomorrow morning?” Bin asked, shuffling over to his bedroom. Dongmin accompanied him, keeping his gaze down on the floor rather than up at Bin's nicely tanned skin.

“Work,” Dongmin responded briefly, and he waited until Bin had fallen in bed. “Sleep well, you idiot.”

Bin made a slight groan, but before Dongmin could leave, the younger boy mumbled, “Hey, Detective Lee?”

“What is it?”

“I think you're probably the prettiest person in the whole wide world. I like it when you look at me like you think _I'm_ attractive, because I'm not as attractive as you and I just think you look so soft and cool and pretty.”

Dongmin didn't know how to respond to that. He felt the blush appear over his face as Bin shifted in his bed, strong arms propping him up for a few seconds before he dropped into a more comfortable position. And, even then, Dongmin watched the rise and fall of Bin's chest as he was lulled into a drunken stupor.

Dongmin had to slap his cheeks a few times and take large breaths. He couldn't allow himself to be so shaken over words spoken under the influence of alcohol. He was a man of class and composure, and _oh god_ , why was his heart beating so wildly?

He hurried home once he ensured Bin wasn't going to wake up for a while. He showered and changed and by the time he finally pulled up the covers of his own bed, it was after one in the morning. He already knew he wasn't going to fall asleep very easily at all, and after an hour of restless tossing and turning, he decided he would watch something calming to ease his beating heart.

His phone, too, decided to wake up, and Dongmin fumbled with it in the dark before answering the call. “Hello?”

The police chief was on the other end, sounding extremely exhausted and confused. “Can you come down to where Yongjin lived, please? And call Bin, too, tell him to come.”

Even Bin's name made Dongmin flustered, and he had to take a quick breath of fresh air before responding, “Yes, but why do we need to come?”

“Yongjin is dead,” the police chief responded. “He's here. Just come as soon as possible, I'll explain it – well, you'll see it.”

The call ended, leaving Dongmin alone in the dark with nothing but Bin and magic and Yongjin on his sleep-deprived mind.

What the hell was going on?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i suck at binu help me write this someone_. new chapter will either be out tomorrow evening or late next week, depending on how i feel about writing more later tonight, lol.
> 
> send me dollar bills so i can take binu fanfic classes [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never thought he would ever fall for such a person, such a mess of a person, but Bin was real and human and normal and Dongmin liked him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heavier material here, since the kid is dead and all, but if you like violence, have at ya.

There were at least five police cars out front of Yongjin's house when Dongmin pulled up. He actually felt slightly blessed that Bin's words were enough to keep him up, or else he would have been so dreadfully tired for this. As it was, he felt that his mind was sharp, and so he exited his vehicle with no problem.

Bin, living a little closer, was already standing there, arms wrapped around himself. Dongmin saw a lot more skin than he should have seen for such a chilly, early morning.

He steeled himself to talk to Bin. It had only been a few hours since Bin confessed that he thought Dongmin was pretty, and there were still so many questions left lingering on the edge of Dongmin's mind. “Why didn't you grab a jacket?” was what he asked instead of anything else.

Bin jumped and glanced back to look at Dongmin. “Oh, god, hey.” It wasn't a very warm greeting; then again, Bin didn't look very warm. He was rubbing at his arms, trying to give himself some form of heat.

“Why did you wear a tank top to a crime scene?” Dongmin asked. Still not one of the questions he truly _wanted_ to ask, but he would blame the somber atmosphere on that.

“When you called, you told me I'd better hurry, so I threw on the first thing I could find.” Bin smiled nervously. “To be perfectly honest with you, I think I _did_ get drunk-”

“You think?”

“-and I think I'm still drunk.”

Dongmin narrowed his eyes and gestured over to Bin's car. “You drove here, though.”

“Yeah, it's a little illegal, now that you mention it, so if you would, please, just keep it between us that I'm drunk, okay?”

Out of everyone he could have had as a partner, he had to get the most talented, handsome, charming _idiot_ in the entire nation. He could have slapped himself right then for his unfortunate luck.

“I can't _believe_ -”

“Hey, I didn't know Yongjin would have died tonight,” Bin responded, and he gave a small pout. “If he could've waited-”

“That's not funny, Bin. Just – here, Bin, chew this.” Dongmin passed over some gum from his pocket, waving it slightly in Bin's face. “Hide the smell, at least.”

“Good plan.” Bin didn't hesitate in taking a piece of the gum and stuffing it in his mouth. Just as he did so, the chief hurried forward and offered Dongmin a slight grimace.

“I know it's early, but it's so bizarre,” he said as a way of greeting. “Yongjin killed himself.”

“He killed himself?” Bin repeated, smacking at the gum as his eyes grew wider. “Here? He came back _here_ and just killed himself?”

The chief gestured for Bin and Dongmin to follow him, which the two boys did without any other prompting. “His mother called us after it happened. He came home, knocking on the door, and his mother answered it quickly. She said she was so excited and reached out to hug him, but he suddenly took out a knife and just – he just plunged it into his throat. According to the medical examiner we called in as well, he twisted it and turned until he was bleeding out.”

“Jesus christ,” Bin breathed.

“Here's the strangest part, though,” the chief continued, leading them to the body. “His mother said that he started crying and choking out words like _help_ and _what happened_.”

Dongmin blinked, and at this point, they were standing over the body. The blood was still fresh, poured out all along the ground and smeared completely across the boy's throat and body. The medical examiners were waiting around, and the chief sighed and pointed at Yongjin. “They've agreed to let you look him over for anything you can find. So far, it seems to just be a suicide, but if the mother is telling the truth, it appears he was scared at the very end of his life, like he didn't _want_ to commit suicide.”

Bin took the pause in the conversation to suddenly turn and scurry away, a hand over his mouth. Both Dongmin and the chief glanced over to see him retching in the grass nearby, a disgusted-looking police officer standing over him.

Dongmin felt embarrassed _for_ Bin.

“What's with him? Surely he's seen a dead body before,” the chief mumbled.

“I don't think he's feeling very well,” Dongmin responded, but he was certain that Bin was vomiting the alcohol he had gulped down just a few hours before. “Anyway, he'll come when he's ready.” He pulled on his gloves and began looking over the body. “Was Yongjin wearing what he left home in?”

“His mother says he was – seriously, is your partner alright? He's throwing up again.”

“Must be very sick,” Dongmin muttered. He tried to ignore the smell of the blood as he examined the clothes. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, save for the obvious and fatal wound in his throat. The boy's hair was unwashed, as much as Dongmin could make out from the blood, and he supposed the clothes had been unwashed, as well. “Did any CCTV footage pick him up?”

“We have someone over at the convenience stores nearby to request the footage,” the chief responded. “But there are many different ways to get out of this neighborhood, and a lot of the cameras don't have very high-quality video.”

Dongmin gave a hum in response, then stood from his position. “Is the mother inside?”

“Are you done with the body?”

“I am – Bin, come here, please.” He had to be polite, as much as he longed to fuss at Bin for the numerous amount of bad decisions the guy had made in just the past few hours.

Bin had pulled up the hem of his tank top and was wiping his mouth off with that. Dongmin _liked_ seeing that six-pack once again, but he didn't like the idea that his junior detective was wearing a tank top at a bloody and important crime scene, and he _despised_ the fact that there was now probably vomit on that tank top.

Bin really needed a shower, and Dongmin decided to send him home quickly after they were done. He could easily work on the paperwork himself; he didn't need a tipsy Moon Bin beside him.

“Sorry about that,” Bin apologized, clearing his throat. “Detective Lee, may I please have another piece of gum?”

The chief raised an eyebrow at Dongmin, who tried to ignore it while struggling to hand over the gum Bin had requested. “Bin,” Dongmin started once his partner was chewing loudly, “can you look at this body and see if anything's weird?”

It took Bin a matter of ten seconds before commenting, “He hasn't washed his hair – these clothes are wrinkled, too, like he's been sleeping in them. Have any cameras-”

“I asked that while you were puking your guts out, and we have someone looking into it right now,” Dongmin mumbled. He gestured for the paramedics to come and finally remove the body, and he pointed over at the house. “His mother is still inside, correct?” he asked the chief, who nodded his head.

“We've already asked her everything we can. She's not in a good state right now; we'll probably take her down to the hospital in a little bit to ensure she's fine mentally.”

Bin was back to hugging himself in an attempt to stay warm. Dongmin felt only a _little_ pity for him. “Maybe we shouldn't question her,” he muttered to Dongmin. “She's been through a lot, and it might be for the best if we just give her some time to heal.”

Dongmin didn't _want_ to agree. He was determined to figure out what exactly had caused Yongjin to suddenly snap in such a manner. He wanted to know if, perhaps, Bin's original theory was correct, if Yongjin had committed suicide in order to free himself from a life of lies, a life filled with loved ones who would turn against him if they learned he could work magic.

Of course, there was no evidence of any magic in Yongjin's life, but there hadn't been any evidence of such in Dongmin's life, either, save for the one person he had told as a younger child.

But when he looked over at Bin and noted the concern that rested on his face, he realized he just couldn't throw on a detective persona and start asking for details about how exactly Yongjin killed himself. The mother had given them all of the information she had. She was probably not fit to be questioned now; probably not fit to be questioned ever concerning this incident.

Bin, Dongmin also realized, was far too kind and considerate, and Dongmin's heart beat all the more wildly for him.

“Alright,” he responded after a few seconds of thought. Bin brightened considerably. “Let's at least go through his room one final time, however. We might find something that we had originally missed.” He didn't know what they _would_ find, though. They had done a rather thorough search the first time around and hadn't uncovered any evidence. A second search probably wouldn't yield results if the first one hadn't.

Still, with the knowledge now that Yongjin had committed suicide, Dongmin supposed they could look for things that would translate into an unhappy life.

He led Bin inside of the house, where they caught sight of Yongjin's mother crying on the couch. A few policemen were around her, mostly talking quietly to themselves, and she sat alone with her head in her hands. Pictures of her son adorned the walls around her; mostly from his childhood, but there were some older ones, too, some with his mother, some with other people that Dongmin figured were family members.

He swallowed thickly and glanced over at Bin, who couldn't stop staring sadly at the woman. “Come on,” he murmured under his breath, but Bin didn't move toward the stairs. Instead, he started walking to the mother. Dongmin grabbed his arm. “You said we weren't going to ask her questions.”

“I know. I won't.” Bin smiled gently, and though Dongmin knew that Bin was drunk and completely wiped out, he still seemed more concerned for the mother than anything else. “I'll meet you upstairs in five minutes.”

Dongmin released Bin's arm after a few more seconds, then cleared his throat. “Right. Five minutes.”

Bin nodded his head and finished his short journey to Yongjin's mother. He sat down beside her without a word before reaching out and placing a hand on her knee. Dongmin saw him utter a few words, and whatever he said caused the mother to look up finally, eyes rimmed red and tears streaking her cheeks. Bin spoke again, and then the mother hurriedly leaned into Bin's embrace, holding onto him as tightly as she could. Her fingers dug into Bin's skin as she cried, and the young detective winced, but he didn't even attempt to remove her hands from his body. Instead, he returned her hug, patting her back soothingly and closing his eyes.

Dongmin's heart felt heavy as he turned from the scene and ascended the staircase.

Typically, the majority of violent crimes never left an impact on him. It was always a brutal sight to see young people murdered, or dead from their own hands, but he never felt any sort of sadness or pain like he did with this case. And while he hadn't yet verified that Yongjin _had_ been a magic user, he still couldn't help but feel a connection to the younger boy. He had excelled in school and people adored him. He had many accomplishments under his name and appeared to have no enemies that Dongmin had noticed. It was quite similar to his _own_ life, except-

-except Yongjin's mother provided everything to him, _including_ love. Yongjin's mother wanted him to succeed in life, but above all else, she truly cared for him as her son, not as a product of what she _wanted_ him to become.

The similarities ended there, then. Dongmin's own mother had never felt the same. Dongmin's own mother loved him until he strayed from the path she had set out, until he had revealed suddenly that he wasn't as normal as she had expected him to be.

Dongmin hated feeling jealousy toward a kid who had committed such a violent suicide, but at the same time, he longed to experience the love and care and familial relationship that Yongjin had before his death.

But he shouldn't focus on that right at the moment. It was ridiculous to get lost in fantasies. He was going to stick to detective work for the rest of his life. Love clearly wasn't an option for him; his own mother had tossed away love rather hurriedly upon finding out what he was, and if his own mother couldn't find it in her to love her son regardless of magical powers, who else _would_?

So he slapped his cheeks once, twice, and then got to work examining the room.

Bin kept true to his word, joining him after five minutes. Dongmin pretended he didn't notice that Bin had been crying.

“Is she okay?” he asked instead.

“No,” came Bin's reply, and the younger boy took a deep breath. “I don't think she will be, if I'm going to be honest with you.”

“Well, I wouldn't expect her to be, not after having to witness such a thing.”

Bin nodded in response and wrapped his arms around himself once again, quite obviously still cold. And when Dongmin looked over, he felt his heart beating fast again.

The image of Bin standing there – still drunk and trying not to sway, tear stains running all down his cheeks, goosebumps littering his bare arms – really made Dongmin find him all the more attractive. He never thought he would ever fall for such a person, such a _mess_ of a person, but Bin was real and human and normal and Dongmin _liked_ him for it.

But, then again, he also felt pity for him, and so he slid his own jacket off of himself and tossed it to Bin. It hit him in the face, and the junior detective fumbled with it for a few seconds before glancing up at Dongmin in shock.

“I've got on a sweater,” Dongmin responded, gesturing to his own clothing. “And I'm feeling a little warm right now.” It certainly wasn't a lie, not when he noted just how nice and tan Bin's arms looked as he gripped onto Dongmin's jacket. It was almost a pity to cover them up, but Dongmin decided that Bin's well-being was far more important than Dongmin's attraction.

Bin smiled softly before slipping into Dongmin's jacket. He gave a loud sigh of appreciation and mumbled, “That feels _so_ much better. Thanks, Detective Lee.”

Part of Dongmin longed to say something similar to, _Call me Dongmin_ , but he couldn't bring himself just yet to cross the bridge between their work lives and personal lives.

Though, come to think of it, Bin had just crossed that bridge mere hours before. Bin's words replayed back in Dongmin's mind: _I think you're probably the prettiest person in the whole wide world_. And, suddenly, Dongmin found himself turning red at the thought of Bin in his bed, shirtless and drunk and opening up his heart, speaking those very same words in that slurred, cracked voice of his.

Dongmin ran a hand through his messy hair and took a deep breath. Bin seemed to notice Dongmin's panic. “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” Dongmin squeaked out, which caused Bin to look even more confused. “We should – ah, we should search for clues and not think about...”

“Think about what?”

Dongmin cleared his throat and pretended he hadn't noticed Bin's question. However, Bin seemed too curious to let it go so quickly. “Think about what, Detective Lee?”

“Nothing!” Dongmin gestured around Yongjin's room. “We need to investigate, though, Bin. See anything out of the ordinary?”

“Other than you freaking out?”

“Let's drop it, Bin.”

Bin's tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Dongmin watched with wide eyes before quickly turning away. Oh, no. Oh _god_ , no, this wasn't good at all. He was really, truly, _terribly_ in too deep at this point, and Bin's intuitive detective skills were noticing. “Detective Lee-?”

“Did you mean what you said about me being pretty?” Dongmin blurted out, unable to take the hammering of his heart any longer. “Or-or was it just something you said while drunk?”

Now it was Bin's turn to stare at Dongmin with wide eyes, and he stammered, “Wha-What was that?”

“You called me pretty-”

“I don't remember doing that!”

Dongmin felt like an idiot. He blinked once, twice, before taking a large breath and trying to regain some form of his previous composure. “Right, then.”

“If I did, I'm _so_ sorry! Y-You know how drunk people get, right? Saying a bunch of shit.” Bin laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

Why did Dongmin feel so disappointed?

“Right, then,” he muttered again, and he ignored Bin's own disappointed expression. Bin had no reason to feel disappointed. Bin hadn't even remembered saying such a thing, and Dongmin wasn't going to rehash the story and make himself feel even worse. Besides that, they really needed to push aside any tension in order to focus on the case in front of them. “We'll grab a few things here and take it back to the station to continue investigating. Here- here, grab the phone and the wallet. I'm going to look through his books again.”

“For what?” Bin asked, picking up what Dongmin had told him to.

“Anything personal he might have written out,” Dongmin responded. “If it was a suicide, he might have written a rant or something similar. Is there not a laptop in here? I believe teens these days would probably type it all out on a laptop.”

Bin looked down at the phone in his hands. “No, but maybe he wrote something out on his phone. _Teens these days_ use _phones_ for everything, Detective Lee.”

Despite the fact that Dongmin knew they were at a crime scene and his mind should be focused on that, he couldn't help but feel like melting at Bin's teasing, mischievous tone. He needed to hurry up and train his partner and then request for him to be transferred, because he wasn't sure how much more his heart could take.

“Well-” Dongmin flipped through a few books, and when he found nothing of importance, he straightened up. “We'll look over the phone once we get back to the office, then. Anything else you needed to look for?”

Bin glanced around the room before shaking his head.

“Alright, come on, then. And _I'm_ driving this time, I can't believe you drove here drunk. We can pick your car up later, but-”

“Shotgun!” Bin announced suddenly, holding the phone and wallet close to his chest and scurrying over to the doorway of the bedroom. “Shotgun?”

Dongmin couldn't even hide the amused grin that came across his own face, and when he noticed Bin smiling proudly, he felt his heart hammer all the more.

“Sure. Shotgun.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so im also going to be writing a myungjin fic while working on this one! myungjin fic is going to be completely light-hearted; think of the fireman myungjin au. it's going to be as fluffy as that was, no lie. i'm still going to be working on this tho, promise, but i do have a rather busy schedule, so if this isn't out by friday evening, you'll probably have to wait until next week for it. XD
> 
> SEND ME DOLLAR BILLS [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) bc i just spent a bunch of money on a water fountain for my cats.


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep came easily, quickly, calmly, his brain exhausted from the day's events and refusing to ward off any thoughts of a particular Junior Detective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i meant to write cute myungjin, but whenever i tried, it sounded too serious and like i was trying to work out a plot, so i had to write this, and im very pleased with it. (not like the myungjin chapter, which im burning.)

After three days of nearly constant investigations, the chief had finally given up.

“We need to focus our efforts on other things,” he stated when he had called the two detectives into his office. “Dongmin, I know you can multi-task _very_ well, but it's highly inefficient to work solely on a case that appears to be just a simple suicide.”

“Sir,” Dongmin instantly began, “I understand it _appears_ like a suicide, but both Bin and I have reason to believe that it was more than that.”

“Explain your reasoning. Something _more_ ,” the chief added once Bin had opened his mouth, “than sheer intuition, because I don't accept that as a solid reason. Sherlock Holmes might operate similar to that, but I need concrete evidence that this was more than just a suicide.”

Dongmin cleared his throat and glanced over at Bin, who shoot him a look of desperation. Typically, Dongmin's mind-reading abilities were enough to grant him some sort of clue to use until he was able to gather proper testimony from criminals. In this case, however, mind reading actually hadn't revealed anything, and if Dongmin didn't feel something off about this entire case himself, he would probably write Bin off as reading too deep into the death of some depressed teenager. However, the conclusion the chief had come to _really_ wasn't sitting right with Dongmin, so he attempted to explain himself better. “Well, you said yourself to us that Yongjin was muttering stuff as he bled out while waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Stuff that an actual suicide victim most likely wouldn't have said. Anyone who is determined to kill themselves doesn't beg for help as they die.”

“He might have botched his suicide,” the police chief responded, shrugging his shoulders. “From the report the coroner gave us, it _was_ by his own hand, and it _was_ very messily done. He was tugging it out and pushing back in, and the knife went in a few different ways. Very violent, very bloody, _very_ much a suicide.”

“But-”

“And if you're telling me it was anything other than a suicide, you're also discounting what the mother saw and what the coroner found. He killed himself. That's it.”

“I understand that, but it doesn't – I feel we need to keep investigating-”

The chief held up his hand, effectively ceasing Dongmin's plea. “Dongmin, you're a fantastic detective, but you have no case. We're closing it. I already have something new for the two of you to work on, so you can continue Bin's training, but _please_ just put this case out of your heads. Yongjin is dead. He was a teenager, he was stressed, he might have been having issues that we're not entirely certain about. Regardless, we won't find anything, no matter how hard we look for it.”

He waited, as if allowing either Dongmin or Bin a chance to refute his statements, and when they remained silent, he gestured for them to leave. “I'll have the new case files brought to you shortly. A woman claims she was beaten by her husband and he says he didn't lay a finger on her, so let's work on this, alright?”

As they left, Dongmin sighed loudly. He already knew the new case would be easy enough to solve, since both the victim and the alleged perpetrator were still alive and had minds he could easily crack into.

Unless, of course, they were sudden exceptions, as Moon Bin was. Dongmin had tried at various times to read his mind, but each and every time he so much as started, he ran into that block again. His magical abilities worked perfectly fine on everyone _but_ Bin, so it seemed, and he still had no answer as to who or _what_ Bin even was.

“This _sucks_ ,” the junior detective whined as he plopped back down in his office chair. “You and I both know there's more to this case, don't we? I mean, there's no evidence he was ever unhappy, and his death was so... _brutal_ , and _who_ would kill themselves in front of their own _mother_?”

Dongmin shrugged his shoulders and slumped down in his own seat, ditching his typical professional persona for once. He felt as if he deserved it for working nonstop on a case that the chief of police just closed up in a matter of minutes. “His last words, though, are what really confuse me. I've worked a few suicides before, and I always find notes or some sort of last confession at the scene. Yongjin disappeared and came back and left _nothing_ , except for pleas to his mother to stop him from dying.”

“And that's what makes no sense. He wouldn't kill himself if he didn't want to die.”

Dongmin hummed in response. “No footage of him, either.”

“Well, that one's easy to dispute. The neighborhood has two exits without any stores or cameras, so he could've easily left, and once he's closer in the town, then it becomes difficult to track him down.” Bin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, then leaned back and stared up at the ceiling.

“Which would mean he was trying not to be found,” Dongmin pointed out.

Bin gave a frustrated cry, attracting the attention of a few officers nearby, then rubbed at his hair, messing it up more than it already was. Dongmin longed to try and get him to comb it back as he wore it himself, perhaps fix it up a little bit and show off some forehead.

And, yes, Dongmin _might_ admit that he longed to do that mostly to see how much more attractive Bin could actually become.

“This _sucks_!” Bin exclaimed again, and Dongmin turned to his laptop, checking his emails and allowing himself yet another sigh. It was quite irritating, knowing that something was different about this particular case and yet being unable to search through evidence any further.

Though, it wasn't as if they _had_ any evidence to look through. Bin had called all of the numbers from Yongjin's phone that had seemed odd, especially the two that had appeared at the time of his disappearance, but one of them was a telemarketer, and the other had been a wrong number from someone out of town. As it was, the case had struck a dead end, and Dongmin completely understood why they had to close it.

“Perhaps something will come up,” he offered as comfort to Bin, glancing over at his partner. “If it _was_ a murder of some sorts, evidence will have to come up sooner or later. Otherwise, maybe we're looking too deep into this. Maybe Yongjin was a...” Dongmin cleared his throat, then quieted his voice. “Maybe he _was_ a magic user, like you suggested before.”

Bin shrugged his shoulders and slumped across the files scattered about his desk, resting his head on his arms and looking over at Dongmin with a pout. Dongmin felt his heart skip a beat, and he told his emotions to get a hold of themselves. There was no reason he should be feeling anything but platonic partnership toward Bin – and yet his brain kept reminding him that he was _allowed_ to find other men attractive, as long as his heart didn't get too carried away and act on these feelings. He would set himself up for heartbreak if he fell in love.

“Maybe,” Bin mumbled. “Or maybe he was a normal person who was just scared about university. Maybe he wanted to break up with his girlfriend and didn't know how. Maybe he _did_ just commit suicide.”

“You don't believe that for a moment.”

“But I'm trying to force myself to,” Bin responded, “to make it easier to push his file away.” It was quiet for a second, only the hustle and bustle of police officers in the background, before Bin continued, “I had to hold his mom in my arms, Detective Lee. She left marks on my skin. She's _certain_ it's more than a suicide, and I have to give up on him after three days. She'll be devastated.”

“Either way, she'll be devastated,” Dongmin mentioned. “Her son killed himself right in front of her. No one will recover from that.”

“But she'll be _more_ devastated,” Bin argued. “I feel like it's my fault.”

“It's not.” Dongmin saw the chief walking towards them with the newest case, and he stood from his seat with a sigh. “Regardless of how we feel about the outcome, we _do_ need to focus on other things we're given. And right now, let's put all of our focus into this and figure out who to jail and who to help.”

They finished that case in a day – Dongmin easily read the minds and Bin was very quickly able to get the husband to confess to physical abuse. It was productive, rewarding, as well, but neither Bin nor Dongmin were able to get past the weight in their hearts concerning Yongjin's death.

The next morning, Dongmin came in with his usual coffee and briefcase, and he was nearly run down by a very enthusiastic Bin. “Detective Lee!” the younger boy announced, his eyes wide as he grabbed the coffee roughly from Dongmin's hands, ignoring the lead detective's confused exclamation. “Detective Lee, _Detective Lee-_ ”

“What is it, Bin?”

“Someone else has gone missing!”

“A missing person's case?” Dongmin glanced over at the police chief who was walking up behind Bin. “Is it another missing person's case?”

The chief looked absolutely exhausted, and he pointed to the doors that Dongmin had just walked in through. “You two are definitely taking it. The victim is a young girl. She didn't show up to class, and she's had perfect attendance this semester, so the principal called her mother. This happened yesterday, but no one actually called us concerning it until this morning.”

“Why not?” Dongmin asked, and he decided he would hit Bin later when he noticed the boy was gulping down his coffee (and making disgusted faces at it – why did he keep drinking it if he hated it?).

“Apparently, her daughter _used_ to be involved with a lot of kids who would skip school, so she thought nothing of it.” The chief was heading out the doors. Dongmin followed, and Bin scrambled behind them. “The girl's name is Park Sohyun. She's eighteen, has dyed brown hair, relatively short. We'll see pictures of her when we get to her house.” He sighed and, before getting into his own car, stopped and faced the two detectives. “She went to the same school as Yongjin.”

He didn't wait for either Dongmin or Bin to respond to that. He quickly climbed into his car and backed away, leaving the shocked words echoing in Dongmin's mind.

“She's-”

“Oh my _god_ , Sohyun was the friend, wasn't she?” Bin asked suddenly, grabbing Dongmin's arm and shaking it. “The one who was friends with Yongjin's girlfriend. That's her, right? I recognized her name when he said it – isn't that her?”

“Stop shaking me, hold on.” Dongmin's thoughts were scattered everywhere. “Okay. Okay, so we _were_ onto something, weren't we? If she's also gone missing, Yongjin's case can't possibly be a simple suicide. Something has to be going on.”

He dug in his pockets for his keys, pulling them out rather quickly. “Alright, we're going to _really_ have to keep our eyes out during this investigation,” he said. “If we can find something worthwhile, something that connects the two other than their friendship, we can convince the chief that Yongjin's case needs to be reopened and investigated in conjunction with this one.”

Bin nodded, then passed over Dongmin's half-empty cup of coffee. “And guess what? I'm sitting shotgun.”

At this point, Dongmin simply had to smile and roll his eyes. He never made an effort to respond anymore; he simply allowed Bin to indulge himself and continued to admire the boy without making any advances on him. Life was simpler if he did that. And, sure, at some points in the day, his heart would ache. For example, during that particular drive, Bin rolled down his window and the wind played with his hair, mussing it and teasing it and pushing back the bangs. And when Bin noticed Dongmin's frequent glances, he returned one with a large grin, his upper lip practically disappearing with his crooked smile.

Dongmin's heart pounded against his chest, begging for the chance to finally be free and love whomever it so pleased, but Dongmin's logic was sound and strong, reminding his heart that it wasn't made to be broken, and for it to remain in tact, he would have to forgo falling for someone who would inevitably end up leaving him at one point or another.

He answered Bin's grin with a smile of his own, brief and chaste, and then kept his eyes on the road for the rest of the drive.

He would hurry with Bin's training and transfer him the first moment he was able to. Even if his life had become infinitely better, even if work was no longer just a task for his magical abilities, even if he _hated_ the very idea of seeing an empty desk where Bin once sat, it was simply the best option for the both of them that they remained far apart. They couldn't allow themselves to become any closer than casual work friends. And even _work friends_ was too risky, too close for Dongmin's standards.

When they pulled up at the house, Dongmin took one deep breath, steeling himself and reminding his heart, once again, that he needed all power to be focused on his magic, on his brain, on his logic, that he needed to forget about Bin, at least for the time being.

His heart stopped pounding so hard, and Dongmin was finally able to look at Bin without the desperate longing he had before. “Once again,” he stated calmly, “let me ask the questions first and foremost, and then you can cover anything I missed.”

Bin agreed readily, then gave Dongmin a thumb's up. “You're the best out of the two of us, after all!” he announced proudly.

(Damn Bin and his ability to tug on Dongmin's heart so easily.)

Sohyun's mother didn't appear nearly as upset as Yongjin's mother had. Sohyun's father prepared breakfast as they spoke, too, and it was all too casual for Dongmin's comfort. He brought it up after asking the basic questions he had already been told by the chief.

“Of course we're worried!” the mother exclaimed. A quick look in her mind confirmed her statement, and Dongmin nodded his head for her to continue. “But before she befriended Yongjin, she was a troublemaker. She would always disappear and come back later. I _really_ thought she had turned over a new leaf this time, but old habits die hard, I suppose.” The mother glanced over at her husband and offered him a small smile. Dongmin detected the worry evident in her eyes. “Though, this _is_ a bit later than she normally would have come home. Which was why we finally decided to call the police.”

Dongmin wrote down a few notes, trying to piece all of the information together. He turned his own gaze to the father, who looked back up at him; his mind had nothing to offer that the mother hadn't already said.

“My junior detective would like to ask a few questions, too, I believe,” Dongmin mumbled, and he stepped back in order to give himself some time to sort everything out.

Yongjin disappeared first, and when he returned a day later, he committed suicide. Next, his friend Sohyun disappeared, and she had yet to return home. Instantly, Dongmin wondered if there had been something _more_ going on between the two of them. Perhaps they were seeing each other behind the girlfriend's back; though, honestly, Dongmin couldn't remember any of the students thinking of such a thing. Sohyun's mind had revealed nothing except for friendship, for both Yongjin and his girlfriend. Surely Dongmin would have _caught_ anything else, wouldn't he have?

After a while, Bin finished his own line of questioning, and he looked just as confused as Dongmin felt. “Did you get anything except more questions?” he asked quietly as they headed upstairs to investigate Sohyun's bedroom.

Dongmin shook his head slowly, opening the door the mother had directed them to. “But I have a feeling the two cases are connected. There's no way they _both_ knew each other and _both_ disappeared within such a short time span.”

“I agree,” Bin responded. “God, this is so bizarre. What a time for me to come on the force, huh?” He grinned despite the situation, and Dongmin's brain fussed at his heart for doing cartwheels in his chest.

“Yes, I suppose. Here, let's see if she left her cell phone anywhere. Or wallet. If we find either of those, I feel like we can connect the cases easily.”

But she left nothing behind of importance. Her cell phone and wallet were both missing, and when the mother spoke to them one last time before they left, she also confirmed the fact that her daughter's backpack was gone from her room, as well.

Bin was quiet as they headed back to the station, clearly frustrated over the lack of progress once again.

“This one just might be a runaway teenager, to be honest,” Dongmin muttered in an attempt to make small talk. “It's not as mysterious as Yongjin's case was. I still believe something wasn't right with Yongjin's suicide, but Sohyun has a history of running off, and she took all of her necessities. This one actually makes sense to treat as a runaway teenager.”

“Maybe,” Bin mumbled, still mulling over the case.

Dongmin sighed. “Lighten up a bit. We'll put out an alert and see if anyone knows where exactly she is, alright?”

“It _has_ to be connected, though!” Bin suddenly exclaimed. “She just started befriending Yongjin, and then she goes _missing_. Just like _he_ had. And we already know his death wasn't completely a suicide, even if we can't figure out what happened, and I just have a bad feeling.”

“A bad feeling?”

“What if _she_ commits suicide in a similar manner? What if _she_ doesn't leave any trace of anything, and we can't figure it out? And then what if _other_ students do the same thing?”

“That's a little extremist to think of right now. Look, I don't think we should worry so much at the moment. If we don't have any word from her after a few days, it might be cause for panic, but for the moment, I think it's best to focus on the runaway route. It'll yield the best results. Besides, we really don't have anything else to go off of.”

Bin finally agreed to that, and the two of them poured over the case together. Bin struggled to connect the two disappearances, but other than the friendship between Yongjin and Sohyun, they arrived nowhere. And when it seemed that Bin was growing restless and all the more irritated, Dongmin decided it would be best to call it a day.

“And do _not_ go out for drinks,” the older of the two warned as they made their way to the parking lot. “God knows I will not cover for you again if you drive here drunk tomorrow morning.”

Bin pouted, cheeks puffing out and arms crossing over his chest.

( _Hush, be still,_ his brain whispered to his heart.)

“How about one beer?”

“How about _no_ beers?” Dongmin raised his eyebrows and stared at Bin until the younger detective chuckled lightly and responded with a nod.

“No beers, then.”

“Good.” And Dongmin moved to turn away, but he caught himself at the last second. “Bin, no alcohol of _any kind_.”

Bin groaned and lightly kicked at his own car. “I was just about to get away with it, too. God, that's why you're the head detective, I guess.”

Dongmin couldn't stop grinning the entire drive home. He showered and dressed in his pajamas, and despite the fact he probably should have been far more concerned with the cases, the image of Bin smiling or pouting or just _staring_ kept creeping back into his mind.

( _And now you're the one longing for him_ , his heart whispered to his brain.)

Sleep came easily, quickly, calmly, his brain exhausted from the day's events and refusing to ward off any thoughts of a particular Junior Detective.

He only awoke when his phone vibrated on the bedside table beside him, forcing him from pleasant dreams he probably should not have been allowing his brain to think up. (Curse his affinity for cute dramas and hand holding – now he just longed to hold Bin's hand.)

With a yawn, he grabbed his cell phone and checked the name first. _Police Chief_. Great. Fantastic. Four in the morning and he had to do something yet again.

“Hello?” he answered, already sitting up in bed.

The police chief sounded tired, rightly so. “Dongmin?”

“Mm?”

“Call Bin. I'll text you the address of where to meet me. Guess who's dead?”

Dongmin was quiet for a total of three seconds before inhaling quickly. “Sohyun?”

“She's in a park. It's a suicide, it _is_ a suicide, but – just in case, please come as quickly as you can before they take her away. Make sure to call Bin. He'd better not be drunk this time.”

“How did you know-” But he wasn't able to complete his question before the chief hung up on him.

Bin, Dongmin realized, was a man who made many bad decisions, but the more Dongmin thought about the two cases while throwing on his clothes, the more he realized that Bin's original assessment had to be correct; there was no way they were _not_ connected together.

He just needed to figure out the link between them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW WHAT??? tbh, in my notes for each chapter, chapter 7 has something that says: _lots of cute binu_ , which is interesting in the middle of two suicide cases, holla.
> 
> it'll make sense in the end, i promise. (you guys have great theories tho, so im actually worried it'll be building up for this epic climax and then you'll all be disappointed.)
> 
> SHOOT ME SOME DOLLAR BILLS [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) so i can write this stupid myungjin fic.


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought of being abandoned by Bin hurt the most, and he refused to allow that thought to become reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said _lots of cute binu_ , but i failed. half of it is dongmin trying to control his feelings and the other half is mystery, with 600 words, if even that, of cute binu tossed in there at the middle. i failed. THERE WILL BE MORE CUTE BINU IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS THOUGH, YOU HAVE MY WORD ON THIS.

“There's no correlation here,” was the first thing Bin greeted Dongmin with when the elder of the two arrived at the crime scene. Bin looked frustrated and tired, though at least he was dressed well this time and didn't appear to be drunk. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared up at the body hanging on a tree nearby.

Dongmin sighed at the scene and stuff his hands in his pockets. The body swayed slightly in the wind, a morbid sight to wake up to so early in the morning.

“The other kid stabbed himself in front of his mother,” Bin continued, and he continued to stare at Sohyun's lifeless form. “And this one decides to go to a secluded park and hang herself.”

“How did they find her, anyway?”

“The chief said someone was taking an early morning jog and ran into her. Like, literally, _ran into_ her. She's not that high up.” Bin grimaced, then finally tore his eyes away from the scene to look at Dongmin. “So what do you think?”

Dongmin didn't know what to think. He had no leads on the case; he had no _idea_ what it could have been, or if it was even related to Yongjin's death at all. The more he speculated, the further from answers he became. His disappointment and confusion must have been displayed on his face, because Bin ran his fingers through his hair and groaned. “Detective Lee, we're never going to get anywhere, are we?”

“I just got here, Bin. My mind hasn't even woken up yet. Let me look through things.”

Though he couldn't help but side with Bin on this particular case. The two of them both knew there was something _more_ , something that connected the two suicides, something that made the suicides not _exactly_ suicides, but there wasn't much evidence to suggest it. They had Yongjin's last words to his mother, and the fact that he had botched his own suicide and seemed to have struggled against the blade piercing his throat, but according to the chief, it still didn't change the fact that Yongjin _was_ the one who killed himself.

Likewise, Sohyun had killed herself, too. And her death made even more sense being labeled as a suicide than Yongjin's did. For once on this case, Dongmin wasn't about to argue the fact that there was something fishy in the way Sohyun died. She had a history of running away, a history of hanging out alongside difficult people; trying to explain her death as mysterious just wouldn't hold up properly.

Dongmin pulled on his gloves and began to examine the scene laid out in front of him. In her pocket was her phone, which Dongmin pulled out and carefully handed over to Bin, but Bin instantly sighed once he booted the device up.

“There's a password,” he mumbled.

“We have people at the station who can crack into it,” Dongmin responded. “Besides, the phone isn't the important part right now. Where's her purse?”

“Her what?”

“ _Purse_. Her mother said she had a purse she always took, and it contained her wallet, but it's gone.”

Bin stepped closer, letting the phone's screen turn black as he glanced around. “I don't think there is one,” he responded. “At least, when I got here, the chief hadn't said anything about a purse being recovered.”

Dongmin finished rifling through the girl's pockets and began examining her body. “She might have dropped it somewhere,” he mumbled. “Or maybe she left it wherever she had run off to originally. If we can find out where exactly she stayed-” He trailed off his sentence when he looked down at the girl's hands, and, once more, motioned for Bin to come closer. “Look.”

“What?”

Dongmin held up one of the cold, limp hands in his own, turning it so the palm faced upwards. “Look at her hands.”

Fortunately for him, he had a smart junior detective, and Bin's eyes narrowed. “Rope burns?” He looked up at the noose. “From this rope?”

“They're recent wounds, so I assume so.”

“They're bad rope burns to come about just from _tying_ a noose,” Bin mumbled. “It looks like she had been pulling at the rope for a while.”

Dongmin thought back once again to Yongjin's death, to the brutal end to the boy's life. He recalled the coroner's report of the knife having entered and exited his neck multiple times, almost as if the boy had struggled and fought against his own suicide. Likewise, Sohyun's death was beginning to remind Dongmin of the same thing.

“Like she struggled against death,” Dongmin pointed out, and he heard Bin give a sharp intake of breath.

“What does it all mean, though?”

“I'm really not certain, but neither Yongjin nor Sohyun were resolute in the decision to end their lives. They both fought against it. People who commit suicide usually don't act in such a manner.”

Bin looked back down at the phone in his hands before he stepped away from the scene, allowing Dongmin to gesture for the policemen to take her down from the rope. “You know what would be awesome?” the younger detective muttered. “It would be awesome if we could somehow talk to dead people and figure out exactly what was going on as they were dying, or before their death.”

Dongmin gave a small _hmm_ in response. “It would be.” But, as it was, they were completely stuck. Dongmin's mind-reading abilities didn't work with people who were dead, and no one seemed to have any knowledge as to how Yongjin and Sohyun actually ended up dying, so he _was_ at a standstill.

But the more he thought on the case, the more Bin's words flirted around his own mind. The only way to make progress in the case was to either wait for another similar circumstance to happen or to actually take statements from those who were already deceased.

Which was why the next hour consisted of him negotiating with the police chief.

“I know it will be overnight, but it's only a couple of hours away,” Dongmin stated after having relayed his plan. “And this man _will_ be able to help us, I know it.”

“Dongmin, it looks like it's just a suicide,” the chief responded. “I know Yongjin's death was a little weird, but Sohyun's parents seemed to accept the fact that perhaps their daughter might have been depressed, or might have been hiding something from them. She wasn't as perfect of a child as Yongjin was.”

“Then if I waste all this time and we _do_ find out both cases are nothing more than simple suicides, I will gladly take all of the most boring cases we have. I'll take small robberies and prank calls and traffic violations and whatever else you stick with the other police officers.”

The police chief snorted and gestured to the large pile of folders on his desk. “Like all of these?”

Dongmin inwardly winced at the amount, but he trusted his own gut – and, at the same time, he trusted Bin's intuition that there was something more to this case that they couldn't uncover all on their own. “I'll take them.”

The two men stared at each other for a while before the chief sighed. “I can't do that. You're the best detective I've ever had, I need you on the tough cases.”

“And if you truly believe I'm the best one you have, you'll trust me on this. There's something more going on. Both Bin and I are under that impression.”

It was silent once again and the police chief rolled his eyes. “Fine. You can go find this man who will help you – how can _he_ help, though? Is he a detective, as well?”

Dongmin allowed himself to smile slightly, pleased with his victory over the police chief. “Not exactly, but...he's worked on cases before, and he's very good.” Lying wasn't so difficult to Dongmin; his entire career was based on a lie, after all. There was no need to tell the truth and worry the chief, anyway.

“But is he better than you?”

“If he can figure this case out, probably he is. I'll bring him back so he can get a better look at the victims, though.”

Dongmin gave a bow and moved to turn away, but the chief stopped him. “Take Bin with you.”

“What?” Dongmin's heart skipped a beat. “Why would I do that? You'd be down both of your main detectives, and I'm staying overnight-”

“The first one is _my_ problem,” the chief responded. “And so I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. I'm capable enough on my own. The second one – why would you care? Just rent out a motel room or something. I'm sure Bin wouldn't mind.”

And it was true. Bin _wouldn't_ mind, but Dongmin certainly minded. Spending the night with the man he was falling head over heels for? There was no way that would turn out comfortable and fun.

“I really think it's best if Bin stays here.”

“I think it's best you follow orders.” The police chief smiled brightly and pointed at the door. “Tell Bin it was my order, too, for him to go with you. Have a safe trip, Dongmin.”

Dongmin cursed the police chief in his head. Outwardly, however, he gave one last bow and tried his best to hide his discomfort with the entire situation as he left the room and made his way to Bin's desk.

“Get up,” he muttered. “You're coming with me.”

Bin didn't move from his spot. “Where are we going? More investigations?”

“If we're going to uncover any more evidence and make any progress in this case, I need someone who can figure out what's going on. He lives a few hours away, though, but the chief gave me permission to travel to his city and convince him to help us on this case. It _does_ require staying overnight-”

“I'm in.”

Dongmin hadn't expected Bin to agree so easily. He hadn't _wanted_ Bin to agree so easily. He _truly_ wanted Bin to argue against the idea, to take it up with the police chief, and to get his own permission to stay at the station while Dongmin did what he had to do.

“But...but we'll have to share a room-”

“That sounds like fun,” Bin responded, standing from his seat and grabbing his jacket. “Are you driving? And, if you are, can we stop by my place so I can convince my neighbor to look after Nancy for me?”

Dongmin blinked. “Nancy...the dog?”

“Yeah! I'm glad you remembered her. Isn't she cute? Anyway, I need her to be taken care of while we're gone for the evening.” He put his jacket on and fanned it behind him slightly. Dongmin was reminded of some sort of model – and, honestly, Bin could have easily become a model.

(Dongmin wished Bin _had_ become a model, because then Bin wouldn't be working with him and Dongmin could still admire him without having to make a fool of himself in front of him. Besides that, typically models would pose shirtless, and Dongmin _really_ wouldn't have minded flipping open magazines to see that image.)

This did mean, though, that now he was stuck in the position of having to spend hours in the company of the junior detective he was growing way too fond of. Dongmin's heart couldn't contain its excitement; his mind couldn't contain his dread.

“Alright, fine, we can stop by your place.”

Bin gave a cheer and, before they left, called out, “Shotgun!” Dongmin longed to smile at him, but he couldn't work his happiness past his nerves of being in such close proximity with Bin for such a long period of time. And when Bin had deposited his dog off with his neighbor (and ended up grabbing a few things from his apartment, as well), Dongmin struggled with what to say next.

Fortunately, Bin didn't appear as nervous, and he was quite ready to start the conversation. “Do you have any pets?”

“No.”

“Do you want any?”

Dongmin shrugged, keeping his eyes solely on the road. “Perhaps one day I might. Your dog is pretty cute.” _Bin_ was pretty cute, especially when he giggled from having Dongmin praise his pet.

“Isn't she? I feel bad for her recently. She's really old and just wants to hang out with me all the time, but I always have work. I knew being a detective would be difficult, but I didn't realize we'd have all these suicides in such a short amount of time.”

“We usually don't,” Dongmin responded. “I guess you just came at an unfortunate time.”

“Guess so!” Bin laughed again, then began to mess with the radio. “You should come over to my apartment more often. Nancy is usually scared of strangers, but she liked you.”

Dongmin nodded his head, hiding his pleasure that he was accepted by Bin's pet (and, apparently, accepted by Bin himself), but then he suddenly frowned. “Wait, how did you know I came inside your apartment?”

“Hm?”

“I've been to your place once, but you were drunk and didn't remember a thing.”

“Why would you say I didn't remember?” Bin glanced up from the radio, leaving it for a few seconds on nothing but static. “I wanted to apologize, by the way. I probably shouldn't have drank so much.”

Dongmin tapped the steering wheel as Bin went back to changing the stations. “So you remembered, um, taking off your shirt?”

He didn't have to glance over to know that Bin was heavily blushing. The boy's cough and sudden movement of straightening up tipped him off enough to that. “Yeah. I'm, um, I'm really sorry about that. I just thought I was-”

“You said you didn't remember,” Dongmin cut him off. “I mean, you said that when I asked if you remembered calling me-”

“You don't have to say it again!” Bin exclaimed, and he buried his face in his hands. His next words came out muffled. “Seriously, Detective Lee, I was _drunk_ , a-and I kind of remember it all, but it's _embarrassing_! Stop embarrassing me.”

“So you _do_ remember? So you _do_ think I'm pretty?” Dongmin didn't know why he was continuing to pry, not when he was blushing probably more than Bin was.

It took a few seconds for Bin to answer that question. It was still muffled, voice hidden by his hands, and Dongmin had to question him again. “What was that?”

“Stop it, Detective Lee.”

“Do you think I'm pretty?”

Bin groaned and peeked out at Dongmin behind his fingers. Dongmin decided, right then and there, that Bin was probably the cutest person he had ever seen in his entire life.

“Yes,” Bin murmured.

Dongmin tried to stop the smile that was fighting with his own lips, but he wasn't strong enough to ward off such an intense burst of happiness. And, when Bin noticed the grin, he hid his face again and let out a long groan. “Stop it! Stop being so happy at my pain, Detective Lee! It's bad enough you saw me like that, stop teasing me for it! I wouldn't do the same to you!”

“I wouldn't allow myself to get drunk in front of someone I think is pretty.”

It was quiet for one second. Two seconds. Two and a half seconds. And then-

“You think I'm pretty?”

“What?”

“Would you allow yourself to get drunk in front of me?”

Dongmin blinked. He took advantage of the stop light to look over at Bin, who had lifted his head and was staring at Dongmin with wide eyes.

“I...guess not.”

“So you think I'm pretty! Because you said that you wouldn't allow yourself to get drunk in front of someone you think is pretty!”

Dongmin could have cursed, but he was a man of class, so he instead just huffed and hid his embarrassment by turning his gaze back to the road. “No, I find other people pretty. I wouldn't allow myself to get drunk in front of _you_ because you're an idiot who would definitely blabber on and on about me to the chief, or to other policemen.”

“You think I'm pretty.”

“I do not.”

Bin leaned in slightly, a large grin on his face and all traces of initial humiliation vanished. “You think I'm _really_ pretty.”  
  
“Shut up, Bin.”

Bin giggled and sat back in his seat. “I guess we're even, then,” he said. “Because you think I'm pretty and I think you're pretty. So we're both equally pretty.”

Dongmin wanted to ask _now what_? He wanted to figure out if this would somehow change their relationship with each other. Surely friends didn't sit around and call their other friends pretty, did they? At the very least, it was clear that there was a mutual attraction in place, and Dongmin _longed_ to act on that mutual attraction, but before he could question anything, Bin was rambling on about something else concerning the song that was playing on the radio right then.

And so Dongmin pushed his wants and desires off to the side, choosing instead to focus on nodding whenever Bin asked him a rhetorical question and shaking his head whenever Bin mentioned something he absolutely despised. Perhaps, though, it was better that way. His heart ached again, desperately pulling and pushing and asking him to _please_ get together with Bin, but his logic and brain won over this round, yet again. He couldn't love Bin, because the moment he loved Bin, he would have to explain who he was. He didn't know how Bin would react to his magical abilities. He didn't know if Bin would be like everyone else in the world, if Bin would cast him aside both for keeping his powers a secret and for having powers at all in the first place.

The thought of being abandoned by Bin hurt the most, and he refused to allow that thought to become reality.

After a few more hours of small-talk and Bin constantly changing songs, Dongmin pulled into the familiar neighborhood. He drove slower then, searching for the house he knew was nearby, and breathed out in relief when he saw it. It was the same house he remembered from years and years ago, and so he parked the car.

“So, who is this, again?” Bin asked, unbuckling his seat belt. “You told me he was like a detective.”

“Not exactly,” Dongmin responded, leading Bin up the steps to the front door of the house. “Just don't ask questions right now, but I _promise_ , he's someone that can help us. You gave me the idea of requesting him to work on the case.”

“I did?” Bin looked confused as he stood beside Dongmin.

Dongmin knocked on the door, then glanced over at Bin. “We would easily be able to figure things out if we could take statements from the dead.”

“But we can't.”

Dongmin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, then averted his gaze. “I guess not,” he lied quietly, and before Bin could say anything else, the door opened. The woman behind the door was far older than Dongmin remembered. Did she always have so many wrinkles? Was her hair always so gray? How did she manage to age so quickly?

But he couldn't stare at the moment. Staring was rude, and he needn't be perceived as such, so instead he bowed, and then forced Bin to do the same beside him. “Hello,” he greeted. “You might remember me; Lee Dongmin, who lived down the street.”

The woman's eyes widened in recognition, and she gave a small bow in return.

She didn't get the chance to say anything else before Dongmin continued.

“Is Kim Myungjun home?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> myungjun had his chance to be a cool necromancer detective. he missed it.
> 
> hopefully i can write up the next chapter tomorrow, and i'm also expecting new myungjin chapter to be up tonight bc why not, i have time. hit me up with some dollar bills to pay for my addiction to astro [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com).


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin wondered if he ever stared that fondly at Bin – if so, he wondered how he could get himself to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me last chapter: there will be a lot of cute binu in chapter 8  
> me in chapter 8: fooled ya again.  
> the next chapter is legit just them driving home and talking, tho, so hopefully the cute will be somewhere in there. im bad at binu im so sorry.

“Is Kim Myungjun home?” Dongmin asked.

There was silence.

Even Bin, probably burning with questions, stood still, eyes flickering back and forth between Dongmin and Myungjun's mother. He didn't dare speak, however, despite how on-edge he appeared to be.

Myungjun's mother broke through the quiet with a wavering voice. “Why do you need him?”

Dongmin saw the fear in her eyes. He noticed she was holding onto the door with a strong grip, ready to close it at a moment's notice. He didn't know why she would feel so afraid of someone who used to come by regularly, but considering Myungjun was a magic user, and a dangerous one according to the government at that, he couldn't necessarily blame her for feeling so anxious.

In any case, he had to talk carefully in order not to alarm her.

“I was going to visit him for a little bit. I also needed to ask for his help regarding my career.”

“And how would he be of any help to you?”

Dongmin didn't know what he could say without Bin overhearing, so he cleared his throat and responded, “His talent would have been useful for us right now.”

Myungjun's mother shot Bin a weary gaze. “I thought you became a doctor.”

“Not quite.”

“Your mother always told me you would become a doctor.”

The mention of his mother made Dongmin tense, and he swallowed thickly. He didn't like to remember his mother. He didn't like to remember the way she had talked about Myungjun's family. He didn't like to remember the way she used him as a product of her own desires.

He especially didn't like to remember the way she had looked at him the night he ran from home, as if he was a monster, as if he wasn't even her son.

And considering he had never once heard from her since that night, he supposed she really must have decided to cast him out of the family and pretend he never even existed.

Focusing on such thoughts, however, deterred him from his original mission. He had to clear his throat one more time, shaking off the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm him, and continue. “I, um, actually became a detective. I decided not to follow the path my mother had set out for me, so I made my own.”

Myungjun's mother gestured to Bin, and Dongmin added, “He's a junior detective. I'm training him right now, and we're on a very important case, and I was hopeful that I could persuade Myungjun to assist us in the case. Is he home?”

The woman in front of him took a deep breath and averted her eyes from both of the boys. “He's not.”

“When will he be, then?”

And, suddenly, she was crying. Her shoulders shook as her head dipped down into her chest. She had to let go of the door in order to wipe at the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “H-He ran away – I haven't seen him in five years! I do-don't know if he's okay, if he's eating well – what if he-he doesn't have a place to even live, or-or if no one will hire him?”

Dongmin stared at her in confusion. Out of everyone he had expected to run away from home, Myungjun wasn't one of them. Myungjun had always had a kind, loving family by his side. Life was surely difficult for a necromancer, but at least Myungjun's parents treated him with adoration and respect. It didn't make _sense_ for Myungjun to leave a home such as this one, and Dongmin felt a rise of irritation in his chest. He pushed it down for the sake of finding answers as to Myungjun's whereabouts.

“Do you know why he ran away?”

The mother nodded her head. She seemed used to crying, to dealing with her tears all by herself, and Dongmin found himself growing steadily more irritated at Myungjun's departure.

“His-his father had lost his job a few days earlier. And we made _certain_ Myungjun knew it wasn't because of him, because of who he was, but I-I think he guessed it himself. He left a note – he said he hated being a burden on us, and if we pretended he was dead, life w-would become easier.” She let out another sob, and Dongmin couldn't believe how tired she looked, how exhausting life had been on her. It surely wasn't easy for the parents of magic users either, was it? “It was easier wi-with my son, though! I love him more than anything, an-and he left because he thought life was too difficult on me. But I would go through _anything_ , any hardships, as long as he-he was by my side.”

She had to grab at the door again, and Dongmin realized her legs were shaking. Bin seemed to notice at the same time, as well, because he reached forward first and gently held onto the woman's arms. “Why don't we take you inside?” he asked quietly, his voice taking on the same comforting tone it had when he had spoken with Yongjin's mother the morning of Yongjin's suicide. “Is your husband home?”

“He-He's working.”

“Alright, then, Detective Lee and I can make you some tea – would that be alright?”

She nodded again, then leaned into Bin's touch. The junior detective smiled softly at her as he lead her back into the house, gesturing with his free hand for Dongmin to follow. Dongmin did, making certain to shut the door behind them, and he watched as Bin carefully sat Myungjun's mother on the couch. He pushed aside her bangs and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe at her cheeks. “We'll make you tea,” he repeated once she appeared to be in a better state of mind. “And, if it's alright with you, we can ask you a few more questions about your son. Detective Lee says we need him if we're going to figure out this case we're working on, and we'll also try and convince him to come home again. I'm sure he wouldn't mind coming home to such a loving mother!”

Myungjun's mother sniffed and nodded her head, trying to convince herself that Dongmin and Bin could somehow help. Dongmin, however, frowned and snapped, “Bin, come here.”

Bin glanced at him, but still offered Myungjun's mother yet another smile. “Just wait here! We'll hurry with the tea!”

He got up then, and Dongmin quickly led them both into the kitchen. “Why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“That we're going to look for her son? We won't be able to find him!”

Bin crossed his arms over his chest. “We're _detectives_. We can find him.”

“No, if _Myungjun_ ran away, he would have made certain to run far away and live under the radar. And he wouldn't come back.”

“You don't know that.”

“I know him better than you do, obviously. He _wouldn't_ come back.”

“Why not?”

“Would you come back to the same place where a teacher kept you locked up in a janitor's closet overnight, Bin?”

Bin's eyes widened, and he glanced over at the doorway of the kitchen, as if ensuring Myungjun's mother wasn't listening. “What the hell?” he whispered harshly, eyes turning back to Dongmin. “You're not serious. He got- that's illegal!”

Dongmin bit his lip, realizing he might have said too much in a state of passion. Bin was bound to start asking questions about the ordeal, about _why_ it happened, and Bin was certainly intuitive enough to figure things out.

“His classmates pushed him in,” Dongmin slowly continued, making certain to keep his own voice down. “He never talked about it much, but from – from what I heard-” He would leave out the fact that he had read Myungjun's mind. “-from what I heard, a teacher had heard him crying for help, opened the door, and then closed it again, keeping it locked so Myungjun couldn't get out until the following morning.”

Bin's expression conveyed the horror he clearly felt, and as Dongmin began to prep the tea, Bin wasn't moving. “That's...that's _awful_ , how the hell did they even get away with that?”

Dongmin didn't respond to Bin's question, choosing instead to say, “Let's just worry about making sure Myungjun's mother is comfortable, alright? She's been through a lot in her life. I hope having us barge in and asking about Myungjun doesn't ruin her more than Myungjun's departure did.”

Bin nodded his head after a few seconds, then worked on finding where the tea was kept. He didn't ask any more questions, though Dongmin could certainly tell he was full of them again, and he didn't even need to have the power to read Bin's mind for that. The boy kept glancing at him the entire time the tea was heating up, and even when they brought a cup to Myungjun's mother, he kept his gaze on Dongmin.

Dongmin, however, ignored him. He instead looked up at the family portraits adorning the walls. A bitter bite of jealousy found its way to his heart; Myungjun really _did_ have loving parents. In all of the pictures, he was smiling, arms wrapped around his mother and father. Though, he more he looked, the more he noticed Myungjun's expression change in the more recent photographs. The smile was the same, those plump lips pulled back to reveal the brightest grin Dongmin had ever seen, but his eyes conveyed sadness and pain. His parents, too, seemed more and more tired and worn down with each year, and Dongmin swallowed past that jealousy in his heart.

He understood why Myungjun left. He could imagine his friend looking at those same images while contemplating his decision to leave, armed with the knowledge that his very existence had made his parents live through immense amounts of fear and terror. Leaving would seem like the best answer to allow them to have a better life.

Though, when Dongmin's eyes traveled back to Myungjun's mother, he realized that nothing Myungjun could do would ensure his parents' happiness. He damned them if he stayed, he damned them if he left. At least Dongmin's power had been kept a secret for such a long time, and at least Dongmin's absence probably _did_ make his mother a happier member of society. Myungjun's loving parents would never have the luxury of living such a carefree, comfortable existence.

And Myungjun must have known that, regardless of what he did, his parents would die miserable and scared for him. Perhaps, then, having such caring and adoring parents as a magic user was more of a curse than anything. He felt pity for Myungjun, and he longed to have the power to wipe away memories. His mind-reading abilities could only allow him to see thoughts; Myungjun's mother's thoughts were plagued with that fear and loneliness and a small twinge of regret for having given birth in the first place. The more he looked into her mind, the more he saw how hard she tried to push away that regret, how hard she tried to deny herself such a morbid thought, but it wouldn't go away. Still, it seemed mostly overshadowed by her intense love and care, and Dongmin _wished_ his own mother would have had similar thoughts.

He drew away from her mind. He couldn't figure out where Myungjun was based on his reading of the woman. And the desire to wipe her mind of her memories of him came back into full force. Myungjun would feel better, certainly, if his parents forgot he even existed.

If only he was a witch. Witches would be able to preform such a task.

“Detective Lee?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by a whisper next to him. Bin nudged his shoulder. “She asked you a question.”

“Hm?” Dongmin blinked and stared up at Myungjun's mother, who did appear to be waiting for an answer to something she had said. “I'm...I'm sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere. Do you mind repeating the question?”

“I asked if your partner knows.”

“If...?” Dongmin blinked, and Myungjun's mother cleared her throat. “Ah. Yes. I mean, no, sorry, Bin doesn't know.”

“Know what?”

“Will you tell him?” the woman asked.

Bin shoved Dongmin. “Detective Lee, tell me _what_?”

Dongmin tried to ignore his friend. “Possibly. Most likely.”

The mother looked worried, and Dongmin offered her a smile. “It will be fine. Besides, we don't even know where Myungjun is, nothing will happen.”

“What are you going to _tell me_?” Bin whined, and he grabbed Dongmin's arm. “Come _on_ , I want to know the secret, too!”

“Later,” Dongmin responded, and he pried Bin's fingers off of him before turning back to Myungjun's mother. “Out of curiosity, do you know of anyone who might be aware of Myungjun's location? Anyone at all. We might be able to get _some_ sort of clue from them.”

Myungjun's mother sipped at her tea and appeared to be in thought, before suddenly brightening up. “Oh! Oh, yes, maybe. Um, next door to us is a lady. Myungjun was friends with her son for a while – Park Minhyuk. He was a sweet boy, and I _know_ he knew something about Myungjun. He was terrible with lying. He moved out two years ago, and he didn't tell me where exactly he went, but I suspect he was going to go with Myungjun. His mother still lives next door. She's...she's not friendly at all, but you can try to ask her a few questions.”

“Have you spoken to her about it before?” Dongmin asked.

“She refuses to talk to me,” Myungjun's mother responded with a mumble, then put her tea on the table. “She doesn't like our family, for obvious reasons.”

Bin nudged Dongmin again. “What reasons?” he whispered, and Dongmin shushed him.

“We'll go speak with her.” At the very least, Dongmin could read her mind to see if she had any idea. Maybe this Park Minhyuk kept up with his mother, and so with renewed enthusiasm about finding Myungjun, Dongmin and Bin headed over to the house next door.

“Detective Lee, you're not telling me a _thing_!” Bin whined when Dongmin rang the doorbell to the other house. “What's the deal with Myungjun running away? What secret are you and his mom keeping from me? Why did his teacher get away with-?”

“Bin,” Dongmin sighed and glanced at him. “I will tell you, promise, but let me figure things out first, alright? Now that Myungjun's actually not here, things are back at a standstill, and I'd rather find him at this point. I honestly don't think we can advance in this case unless one of two things happens – either we find Myungjun, or someone else goes missing. And, to ensure no one else commits suicide, we _need_ Myungjun. And he's gone, so right now, I'm confused.”

“ _You're_ confused?” Bin mumbled angrily under his breath, and Dongmin had opened his mouth to respond, but Park Minhyuk's mother finally answered the door.

She looked at the two boys with uncertainty, and Dongmin turned his attention to her. “May I help you?” she asked.

“Yes, sorry.” Dongmin bowed. “We're looking for Park Minhyuk. I understand that he moved, but do you have any clue where he might have moved to?”

Minhyuk's mother was different that Myungjun's. She had no sign of fear or worry about her as she resolutely answered, “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am! What sort of question is that?” She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you need him, anyway?”

Dongmin decided it wouldn't do good to mention Myungjun, or Myungjun's family, so he replied, “We just needed to ask him a few questions, is all.”

“Well, he's not here. He ran away with that _Myungjun_ kid.” His name was spat out with such hatred that Dongmin saw Bin look taken aback. Dongmin chose not to respond to Park Minhyuk's mother's quip. It would do him no good to get into an argument over his old friend. Rather, he used his abilities once more, looking into her mind for any clues or answers.

He found anger instead, directed both toward her son and toward Myungjun. He found steadfast determination to make sure Minhyuk never returned home.

He found guilty pleasure from bruises inflicted on her son – the more he looked, the further back this pleasure seemed to stem from, and Dongmin was suddenly filled with his own anger.

“You don't appear to be very fond of your son,” he murmured, and with a slight intake of breath, he exited her mind. What he found had been horrid, and he completely understood why Minhyuk would have chosen to run away and never tell where he had gone, as well.

“Would _you_ be fond of someone who hung around – around that _thing_?” the mother asked with a snap, pointing over at Myungjun's old house. “Minhyuk lost his title as _my son_ when he allied himself with them.”

“It doesn't mean you need to hit a child.”

Both Bin and Minhyuk's mother looked surprised. They stared at Dongmin for a few seconds, and then the woman scoffed again. “You don't know a thing! Get the hell out of my yard or I'll call the police on you!”

Bin grabbed onto Dongmin's arm and tugged. “Come on,” he whispered, his eyes still wide. Dongmin complied, and he spun around without bowing again to the woman. Bin, too, followed Dongmin, only glancing back when the door to the house had slammed shut. “Detective Lee, you _really_ just can't accuse people of beating _children_ without any evidence. How did you know she did that?”

“She didn't deny it, did she?” Dongmin asked, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He really did need to calm down. Minhyuk was gone, hopefully safe with Myungjun, and stirring up trouble wasn't the reason he came down here. “Her hatred of her son was clear. I made an assumption based on other similar cases, and, unfortunately, it appears I was right.”

Bin blinked. “All because he hung out with Myungjun?”

And Dongmin could tell that Bin was beginning to catch on. He didn't need for Bin to know any more, though, so he took his hands out of his pockets and pointed at his car. “Let's just go,” he mumbled. “We'll spend the night at a hotel and be on our way tomorrow morning. This was a completely pointless trip.”

“Well, I mean, we know that your friend disappeared, so...so if we ever find anyone named Myungjun, we can know to tell him that his mom really wants him back.”

Dongmin looked over at Bin. The younger boy was smiling thoughtfully, displaying pure goodness and kindness. Dongmin's small crush had been reigned in for the majority of the visit to his old neighborhood, but now, suddenly, it was back in full force.

He had to take a deep breath before responding, “I guess we can do that. We might even be able to find him one day.”

“Right!” Bin grinned now and patted Dongmin's back. “But let's get a move on right now. It's getting late, and I've been up for a while.”

That _was_ true, and now that Bin mentioned it, Dongmin found himself holding back a yawn. They had been up since the early hours of the morning, visiting the crime scene and then driving such a long way, and Dongmin discovered the exhaustion had suddenly hit him.

“Get in, then,” Dongmin said, gesturing to the car. “I know of a motel about ten minutes out.”

Unfortunately, Lady Luck wasn't on his side that evening. He had driven for hours only to come up with absolutely nothing, he had nearly lost his cool while confronting Minhyuk's mother, he was _this close_ to giving out information on Myungjun's abilities to Bin, and, to make matters worse, his car wouldn't start.

As Dongmin propped up the hood and pretended he knew exactly how cars worked, he couldn't help the curses that spilled from his mouth. Bin watched him in concern before reaching over to offer his own assistance.

“I'll be honest,” Bin muttered after a few seconds of peering around at the inner workings of the car, “I know absolutely nothing about any of this.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dongmin breathed, and Bin glanced at him.

“It's cool! We can walk there! You said it was ten minutes, right? Let's-”

He didn't get a chance to finish, however, because he noticed someone coming up the pathway, dressed nicely in a business suit and regarding the strangers in front of the house with confusion. Dongmin recognized him instantly, and quickly bowed in greeting.

“Hello, I'm sorry about this. Um, I'm Lee Dongmin. I'm not sure if you remember me, I lived down the street from you, and I was good friends with your son.”

Bin bowed, as well, rather hurriedly when he realized the man standing in front of them was Myungjun's father.

“Is everything alright?” the man asked. His voice was gruff, but still kind, just as Dongmin remembered it. “Is your car alright?”

“Well...” Dongmin cleared his throat. “Not...not exactly. We were trying to get to the nearest motel, but, ah, the car broke down. I'm not sure how to fix it. We're just going to walk, I guess.”

Myungjun's father stared at the car for a few seconds, then looked over at the setting sun. “It wouldn't do you good to walk in the dark,” he mentioned, and it didn't take him long to smile softly and point at his house. “We have a room you two can sleep in. Come on.”

“No, we really can't accept.”

“It's no trouble! Think of it as...as repaying the kindness you always showed to my son.”

And, for some reason, Dongmin couldn't reject the offer. He _was_ tired, and walking such a long way in a town he had only stayed in for two years probably wouldn't be the smartest of plans. After a quick look in Bin's direction, ensuring it would be okay to accept, he nodded his head. “That's...thank you very much. Will your wife be okay with it?”

She was, though; the moment her husband asked, she immediately agreed to the idea. Dongmin felt a little guilty as she prepared them a large meal. “You really didn't have to,” he had said, but she simply smiled.

“It's been a while since I've had such young boys in my house,” she responded. “And I know how much boys eat.” She had watched fondly as Bin scarfed down her food and made an exclamation noise in order to show his own appreciation.

(Dongmin wondered if he ever stared that fondly at Bin – if so, he wondered how he could get himself to stop.)

The room she had to offer, Dongmin realized when she opened the door, was Myungjun's room. He had assumed it would be bare, packed away of all of Myungjun's personal belongings, but it looked as if Myungjun had only been gone for a few days, not a few years. His bed was neatly made and the blankets folded back, various posters hung around the wall, and the bookshelf nearby had been dusted recently, if the cleanliness was anything to go by. Dongmin suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“I know it's a smaller bed, but would this be alright?” his mother questioned softly, flipping on the light. “I suppose I can set up a blanket in the living room, if you two don't want to share a bed-”

Dongmin felt uncomfortable again, but for different reasons. In his desire to quickly have a roof over his head, he hadn't even thought through the fact that he and Bin would have to _share_ a bed. Suddenly, walking in the dark to a far-off motel wasn't as bad as an option for his wildly beating heart, and he decided he would gladly take the blanket in the living room.

“We can share!” Bin happily exclaimed before Dongmin could say anything at all, and Dongmin tried to hide the panic on his face. “Detectives have to share beds all the time, probably.”

The logic didn't make any sense to either Dongmin or Myungjun's mother; the woman accepted it, however, and wished the boys a good night.

Bin was the first to flop on the bed. “ _God_ , this is cozy!” he commented. “Myungjun had it made for him. He should have ran and taken his parents with him, they know how to make a bed nice and warm.” When he noticed Dongmin wasn't joining him, he patted the spot he _hadn't_ claimed for himself. “Come on.”

“It's a little awkward.”

“Is it because...is it from the, um...you know?” Bin suddenly seemed a little embarrassed. He averted his gaze down to the sheets. “ _BecauseIcalledyoupretty_?”

Dongmin took a deep breath and bit his lips. “Maybe.”

“Ah.” It was quiet then, before Bin broke it by muttering, “You still are.”

“God, Bin-” Dongmin ran his fingers through his hair. Bin was managing to make it even more difficult to sleep next to him than it already was.

“What? I'm allowed to think that about you, aren't I?”

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't.”

“Why not?” Bin sat up and glared at Dongmin suddenly. “You thought the same thing about me, didn't you?”

“We're _work_ partners,” Dongmin responded, and he met Bin's gaze. “Nothing more.”

He couldn't be more than that. If he was more than that, Bin would leave him quickly. In order to save himself the heartbreak later, he wouldn't even allow himself to become too attached today.

Bin's lips tightened in a line before he collapsed back in the bed, burying himself under the covers. “Fine,” he mumbled, his voice muffled from the sheets that lay over top his head. “We're nothing more than that.”

Dongmin longed to read Bin's mind there and then, because the slight disappointment layered onto the younger boy's voice didn't make any sense. Why _would_ Bin be disappointed over Dongmin's words?

He pondered this for a few seconds before Bin spoke once more.

“Can you turn off the lights and get in bed, please? You staring at me is unnerving.”

Dongmin blushed slightly, then fumbled with the lights. “How did you know I was staring?” he asked.

“You've got this oddly piercing gaze. I don't know, I can feel you stare at me sometimes.” Bin seemed a bit more relaxed when Dongmin climbed into bed. He poked his head out of the blanket and cleared his throat. There was only a small amount of space in between them, and Dongmin wondered if Bin was laying as stiff as he was.

“That's weird,” Dongmin muttered, shutting his eyes and pretending he _wasn't_ sharing a bed with an insanely attractive man beside him.

“Want to know what's really weird?”

“Hm?”

“These sheets have been washed recently.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can smell them. They smell clean and fresh.”

Dongmin didn't respond, and so Bin continued.

“She probably waits for him to come back, you know.”

“Yeah.”

Dongmin could just spot Bin craning his neck to look back at him, the moonlight shining in through the blinds covering the window, and he stared at the younger boy.

“That's really sad, Dongmin.”

Dongmin didn't catch onto the fact that Bin had said his name until he had almost fallen asleep. He wondered if the lump in his throat was his heart finally breaking free of his logic and lodging itself there.

And he wondered if the tears gathering in his eyes were because his brain was fully aware that Dongmin was going to get cast aside by someone he loved once again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this wasn't supposed to be so long, but i was in the groove. next chapter will be shorter probably, lol, sorry to put you guys through this madness.
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) because i'm working on a bucket list with a bff that involves lots of trips. help.


	9. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bin,” he started quietly, voice shaking as he prepared to spill his secret for only the third time in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay im going to be perfectly honest with you guys, it's all kind of angsty binu until we hit chapter 14? really the cute stuff starts in chapter 16 but you guys get the idea, it's going to be much later, i apologize completely. i mean, next chapter will be cute, but followed with more angsty, emotional dongmin so whatevs. im bad at this.

There were a great number of times in Dongmin's life where he would much rather live in dreams than in reality. In dreams, anything was possible. In dreams, he never had a curse such as _mind-reading_ placed over him. In dreams, he had brothers and sisters and a family just as loving as Myungjun's was. In dreams, he had a clear path for himself that _he_ had set and planned, and those around him supported him in everything he did. In dreams, he had a special someone by his side, a significant other, who would stick with him through thick and thin.

Particularly his dream right now, though, would be fantastic to live in. The dream wasn't as extensive and complex as his other dreams; it simply involved hugging Bin. _Clinging_ to Bin, actually, would have been a better word to describe it.

Bin's back was pressed up against Dongmin's chest. They molded together so perfectly, and Dongmin decided he would be shocked if the heavens hadn't sent Bin to him as some form of soulmate. Dongmin's arms wrapped around the front of Bin's body, resting on his chest. He breathed in the soft smell of Bin's shampoo, and the fine hairs from his partner's neck tickled his nose, bringing forth a smile to his face.

This was the sort of dream he longed to make reality. It was quiet and domestic and Dongmin could definitely get used to the dream. He would have to call out for it every night; if he couldn't have Bin in real life, the dream-Bin would make up for it.

He nuzzled his face into Bin's neck, his nose now squished and his breath coming out in hot bursts up along Bin's skin. The smile on his lips transformed into a grin, though his eyes remained shut. He would cherish this dream for as long as he had it, and he wouldn't allow _anything_ to wake him up.

“Detective Lee?”

Bin's whispered voice broke through his resolution to stay in such a position – but it must have been Dream Bin, for Dongmin's hands, placed right on Bin's chest, felt the change in breath, the slight release of air as Dream Bin spoke.

It was a dream, then, and Dongmin could respond and cuddle all the closer up to the junior detective. “Hmm?”

“Detective Lee, we should move, probably.”

Dongmin whined and shook his head. The back of Bin's head brushed slightly against Dongmin's forehead. “Let's stay like this.”

Fortunately, it was quiet for a few seconds, but Bin spoke again. “Detective Lee?” His voice was cracking slightly, either from a sudden morning wake up or embarrassment. Dongmin had spoken to Bin enough times to understand there was hardly a difference in the two tones.

Which, though, would mean that Dream Bin was either waking up or heavily embarrassed about something. Would Dongmin dream Bin in such a position, however? All of his other dreams of Bin involved lots of excitement and enthusiasm, and this one was _different_ somehow.   
The major problem seemed to be that Bin wasn't hugging him back as he should have been, and Dongmin finally began to open his eyes, blinking away the morning sun that shone in past the blinds on the window.

He had to take a few seconds to remember his surroundings. He had gone to Myungjun's house, and his parents had offered Dongmin and Bin a place to stay when their car had broken down. They had to share a bed, unfortunately, which would mean they were still in that same bed -

Which would mean Bin was _not_ a dream, and Dongmin's hands _were_ definitely wrapped up around him and clinging into his shirt while his face was nuzzled nicely into Bin's neck. It was a position that Dongmin loved to dream up, but the more he stared at the back of Bin's head, the more he realized that he wasn't dreaming.

He was fully awake when he realized what mistake he had caused.

“If we're playing _Big Spoon, Little Spoon_ ,” Bin started, still not moving from Dongmin's embrace, “can I be the Big Spoon next time?”

Dongmin gave a loud gasp and pushed away quickly from Bin, trying to untangle his limbs. He rolled out of the bed, hitting the carpeted ground, and ignored the delightful giggle that came from Bin as he peered over the side of the bed at the senior detective.

“I'm not _that_ repulsive, am I?” Bin asked, and when Dongmin looked up into those twinkling eyes, he felt his face turn bright red.

_Shit_ , he had fallen to deep. He had fallen _way_ too deep for Bin. His tears from last night had been enough to convince him of that fact, but now he was _spooning_ with Bin.

The worst part, though, was the fact that he _knew_ Bin was catching onto Dongmin's crush, if that small smirk that played with his thin lips was anything to go by. Dongmin really had to struggle to find his composure, somewhere hidden underneath layers of humiliation and regret.

“I-I am _so_ sorry!” Dongmin apologized, keeping his voice down in order to ensure that Myungjun's mother wouldn't hear him. “I wasn't – I'm simply used to, uh, to sleeping with a pillow, and so-”

“Like a body pillow?” Bin interrupted, and he raised his eyebrows. “Detective Lee, do you sleep with those anime girl pillows?”

“The what?”

“Only perverts sleep with those,” Bin whispered, and he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, continuing to peer over it. “Detective Lee, are you a pervert?”

Dongmin blinked. “I'm...no, of course not! I don't sleep with those types of pillows-”

“What types of pillows do you spoon, then?” Bin's lips suddenly tightened. “You don't sleep with a _person_ , do you?”

Dongmin could have laughed. He wouldn't know of anyone who would willingly sleep alongside a magic user. Bin was the exception to that, only on the account that he was unaware of Dongmin's abilities. “I don't sleep with pillows like that, _nor_ do I sleep with _people_ like that,” Dongmin responded quietly, finally standing from his spot and making certain his clothes weren't too wrinkled. “Stop implying things like that, Bin.”

Somehow, Dongmin's denial of sleeping with anyone made Bin grin widely, and the boy moved over from the edge of the bed to stare up at the ceiling. “Well, that's good.”

Dongmin didn't know _how_ it was good. He had a hunch, an inkling of an idea, but he refused to voice it even to himself. There was a very high probability that he was completely and utterly wrong about that hunch; more than that, however, if he was correct, there was no way he could allow anything to continue between the two of them.

He really needed to uncover this case, give Bin the credit, and send him off to a different department. He was getting far too close for comfort, both physically and emotionally.

He said nothing more as he fixed his side of the bed, making certain it looked just as nice and neat as it had when he had entered the room. By the time he finished, Myungjun's mother was knocking on the door and entering slowly.

“We called a mechanic,” she stated to Dongmin with a soft smile. “He's looking at your car right now.”

Dongmin glanced up. “You didn't have to do that! I could have called one myself, or I could have figured it out.”

“It's no problem! He says it shouldn't take him too long. I think it's a rather easy fix.” She cleared her throat and gestured down the hallway. “In any case, why don't you boys come and eat some breakfast?”

If anything was to get Bin out of bed, it seemed, it was the promise of more free food, and he hurried up. “That sounds perfect!” he exclaimed cheerfully. “If it's anything like dinner was last night, I already know I'll love it!”

Dongmin felt like cursing Bin's charm. He certainly knew how to get Myungjun's mother blushing – and he certainly knew how to get _Dongmin_ blushing, especially when he turned to look over at the older boy and shot him a grin.

Even Bin's _grins_ were now enough to cause Dongmin to unwind completely, and he lost whatever thoughts had been coming to his mind. “I guess we're eating breakfast together!” Bin announced.

He sounded pleased somehow, and Dongmin hoped that it was simply friendliness and not infatuation.

“We need to hurry, though,” Dongmin responded, praying that his cheeks weren't flushed at all. “I want to get back to the station and continue our investigation.”

“We're at a standstill, you said, so I think it's alright if we take a little bit of time to eat what Mrs. Kim prepared for us.”

Bin had a point, and when Myungjun's mother glanced over at him with hope in her eyes, Dongmin really couldn't reject her offer of breakfast. She probably didn't have anyone to cook for anymore, save for her husband, and perhaps having some sort of link to Myungjun gave her a renewed sense of determination that her son would come back to her one day.

Dongmin felt nothing but pity for the woman, and as she led them back to her table, he wondered how long she would wait for Myungjun. It had been five years since she had last seen him, so she said. Would it be another five years before she stopped washing his bed sheets and dusting his shelves? When would she finally become convinced that she would never see him again?

It was a depressing thought, and as Dongmin chewed silently on his rice, he realized that he _wanted_ to find Myungjun. He wished his friend could see just how much hell he had put his parents through by departing so suddenly and never keeping up any form of contact. Dongmin decided that if his own mother was as sweet and loving, he would never push her aside.

Despite Dongmin's desire to hurry things along still, Bin certainly took his time, chatting with Myungjun's mother about anything and everything. He listened, too, as she discussed her favorite memories, all of which included Myungjun in the mix, and Bin flattered her even more by praising her home and kitchen and food and anything else he could think of.

Finally, when his last bite was taken, he smiled over at Dongmin, who had finished long before. “Are we ready to go?”

Dongmin nodded his head and stood from his seat. “Hopefully the mechanic figured something out. If not, we can find a rental car to take from somewhere. Mrs. Kim, it's...I wish I would have come back earlier.” He turned to face her, noticing the forlorn expression, and he felt a twinge of regret. Then, without thinking things through, he added, “I'm going to find Myungjun.”

She widened her eyes; next to him, Bin did the same.

“And I promise I'll get him to come visit you. I'm sure he misses his parents very much, and I don't see why he would stay away for so long. I'll let him know you need him.”

He bowed then, but the moment he straightened, Myungjun's mother embraced him tightly. She was a smaller woman, too, frail and skinny and trembling. Dongmin wondered if she was crying. Dongmin hoped she _wasn't_ crying.

He had never been good at comforting people. Closeness wasn't something he had experienced much of as a child, and while his heart always yearned for affection, he hardly ever acted upon that desire.

(Though, now that he had a chance to think about it, he had spooned with Bin and gotten a hug from Myungjun's mother, and he supposed that was the most intimacy he had experienced in a long while.)

“Please find him,” the woman whispered, her face buried in Dongmin's chest. “And at least let him know how much I love him.”

Dongmin was certain that Myungjun already knew, but he promised he would do exactly as she asked. And when she pulled back and gave him a watery smile, he hoped that it had been the right decision to make; he mostly hoped, though, that if he _did_ find Myungjun, he could convince him somehow to come back home.

She gave Bin a hug, too, less desperate and far more loving, and patted his cheeks, warning him, “Don't eat too much or you'll get a stomachache!” Bin had laughed and hugged her right back and told her that he would need to come again for a visit, which she readily agreed to.

Their departure from the house turned quiet after that. Dongmin spoke to the mechanic, who tried to explain to him that his car simply needed to “be jumped,” (and as much as he nodded and pretended he knew what that meant, he had no idea), and then they were headed back to the station. Bin put the radio on to cover up the silent atmosphere, and he continuously glanced over at Dongmin throughout the ride.

It took half an hour for him to finally speak.

“Myungjun's a magic user, isn't he?”

Dongmin didn't answer; to Bin, though, the silence _was_ an answer.

“What sort?”

“Bin-”

“You said something interesting when we first arrived at the house. I was confused when you said it. You said that we could figure things out if we could talk to the dead.” Bin tapped on the window, trying to mimic the tune of whatever song was playing. “Is Myungjun a necromancer?”

Dongmin wet his lips with his tongue, then reached down to turn the radio up. Bin's hand intercepted his own, catching it suddenly and holding onto it. His fingers wrapped around Dongmin's and he squeezed ever so lightly. “Don't ignore me. You seriously took me to see a _necromancer_ , Detective Lee. Do you have any idea how dangerous they are? I know you two were friends when you were kids, but, _god_ , Detective Lee, what if he _had_ been there? What then?”

“We would have asked-”

“Oh, and no one would notice that two kids randomly got up from the dead? Not to mention the fact that they're in the morgue right now? How would the chief take that, if we just waltz some random guy from hours away into the morgue and we come out with two live students?”

Truthfully, Dongmin hadn't thought it through all of the way. He supposed he would have asked Myungjun to kill them off right after they were brought back, but he wasn't entirely certain how necromancers worked, anyway. He had witnessed Myungjun bring back flowers and bugs, and occasionally a dead rodent, but never before had he heard of Myungjun bringing _humans_ back to life.

“Well, he wasn't home, so we needn't worry.” Dongmin removed his hand from Bin's grasp, trying to ignore how loudly his heart was beating.

Bin glared in Dongmin's direction. “Necromancers are evil.”

Dongmin gave a scoff. “Do you honestly believe Myungjun is evil? After everything you've seen and heard from him, do you _truly_ believe that?”

It was quiet again as Bin contemplated the question, and his partner suddenly sighed and leaned up against the door to Dongmin's car. “I guess not,” he muttered. “But I was always told...magic users are evil, Detective Lee. That's what everyone says. But you know what? I've never really met an evil magic user.”

“Have you ever _met_ a magic user before?”

“Once.” Bin sighed again. “Back when I was in elementary school, I knew this guy who could make things levitate. He was older than me by a few years, so I thought he was really cool. My mom always told me that magic users are normal people and should be treated with kindness, so I became his friend. He liked me, he said, because I was the only person who was nice to him.”

Dongmin listened with interest. He hadn't known of too many normal people who would willingly befriend a magic user, and his heart was gaining hope that perhaps Bin wouldn't treat him differently, then, if he knew about Dongmin's own secret.

“Are...are you two still friends?” Dongmin asked quietly.

Bin cleared his throat. “No. We had this spot we'd hang out at, and I went there one day and he was dead. Someone had just beaten him with, I don't know, I think they determined it was a hammer. Over and over again. And we all _knew_ who it was at the school. A bunch of kids heard some of his classmates boasting about having murdered him. The detective on the case wrote it off as _gang-related_ – can you believe that? The kid was probably only ten years old.”

Dongmin could definitely believe it. He had spoken with police and other detectives who had worked on cases relating to magic users. They didn't want the stigma of associating themselves with magic users, so they would find ways to ensure the true criminals were able to get off with little to no punishment.

“Anyway, I think that was when I decided to become a detective. I wanted to protect people like that kid and Myungjun, because I feel so bad for them. They have to go through so much shit just because of something they can't control.” Bin ran his fingers through his hair. “Myungjun's mom was so _sad_ , too, Detective Lee. I don't think she'd care what happens to her as long as she can make sure her son is safe and happy, and I haven't ever seen anyone really act like that towards a magic user.”

Dongmin's heart beat against his ribs. If Bin was truly sympathetic to magic users and their plight, it would be so much easier on him, then. Perhaps he _could_ allow himself to love and to be loved right back. He wouldn't have to worry about being tossed aside for his abilities.

Bin might be able to love him regardless of who he truly was.

“Bin,” he started quietly, voice shaking as he prepared to spill his secret for only the third time in his life.

But Bin hadn't heard him. Bin continued with his original thoughts. “At the same time, I can understand the fear and the stigma. There's a lot of times where they use their powers for evil purposes. Like, there was a necromancer who would kill people and raise them back up from the dead, and then kill them – just over and over again.”

“Myungjun wouldn't do that,” Dongmin quickly defended his friend, and Bin glanced at him.

“I'm not saying he would. I'm just saying that after all the evil magic users do, it's hard to trust them.”

Dongmin's heart fell back in place. He briefly wondered if it shattered, or if it had just completely given up. His hands felt sweaty as he gripped the steering wheel, and he longed to be alone right then. He needed to cry. He could compose himself, certainly, but his body longed to just curl up in on himself and cry.

“Right.”

Bin stared. “I didn't mean to make you upset. I know Myungjun is an amazing person, what with all you said about him. And my friend was really kind, and I _know_ most magic users are good, but I just...I understand the _fear_ people have.”

“It doesn't make killing them right.”

“No. And it doesn't make locking them up right, like Myungjun had been, you said. And it doesn't make beating up your kid for hanging out with one right. There's lots of evil in this world, I guess. But magic users have a stigma around them that's hard to erase. You can't blame a lot of people for being scared.”

Dongmin wouldn't tell him, then. Dongmin would never tell him, and the moment he was able to transfer Bin to a different department, he would do so, and he would never have to see him again.

It would still be painful to watch him go, but it would be more painful to be loved by him and _then_ have to watch him go. At least this way, neither of them would have to act on their feelings and emotions.

“Are you scared of them, Bin?” Dongmin asked, trying to will his voice not to shake at all.

Bin glanced over at him. He hesitated.

“No.”

Dongmin sighed and Bin looked away guiltily. They didn't speak again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PA-CHAM he can't tell. when will he tell then? only the seal knows for certain.
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) bc im legit soooo poor right now.


	10. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it was, there was nothing he could really do from stopping Bin buying food. As it also was, his heart wanted to pretend it was a date, and so he accepted Bin's blatant date-like-setting in order to appease his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> date???? cute binu??? did seal deliver??? (this chapter wasn't supposed to be this long, and it wasn't even supposed to be written until tomorrow night, but all my plans fell through so i sat at home instead, i live a sad life)

Dongmin couldn't remember the last time he had gotten so little sleep. Probably when he first ran away from home, if he stopped to think about it, and was worried about the prospect of finding a job and a roof over his head. However, now it was his _job_ causing him to stay up until the wee hours of the morning, searching for clues that the police chief constantly told him he would never find.

Still, Dongmin was _adamant_ he was missing something important in the case. It couldn't have just been two separate suicides, not when the deaths were so mysterious.

He began to abhor Myungjun for also running away from home. His conscious told him it was ridiculous to blame his friend, but his frustration needed somebody to blame for his lack of sleep and exhaustive investigation. Myungjun was an easy target for that.

He had tried searching for a _Kim Myungjun_ , but names were too common, and without giving his chief specific reason as to why he needed to use time and resources figuring out where his old best friend was, he was on his own, browsing any social media site he could think of in order to figure out where Myungjun lived.

He didn't find a thing, which he had expected. If Myungjun truly wanted to escape his previous life, he would have made certain to delete all forms of contact.

It was getting increasingly difficult to direct his frustration on someone who wasn't even a part of his life anymore, however, and the more he thought about his irritation, the more he realized that most of it wasn't even about Myungjun.

Most of it was about Bin.

He had known he could never be with anyone. It was too difficult, unless he somehow found another magic user. Normal people wouldn't understand his plight, if they even took the time and effort to understand his plight, and he couldn't rope Bin into a relationship only to watch him pull away when he learned the truth.

Still, his logic hadn't been able to stop his heart from _hoping_ , from praying, that maybe Bin would be different from all of the other normal people. Maybe he would see how kind Dongmin was, how smart and capable he was, and understand that the prejudices surrounding the magic users was wrong. And then, maybe, they would be able to be _more_ than just work partners.

But the statement from the other day continued to replay in Dongmin's mind. Bin's complete hesitation to claim he _wasn't_ scared of magic users replayed in Dongmin's mind, as well, and Dongmin found his frustration with Myungjun ebbing away, replaced instead with anguish that Bin could never be his.

If Bin noticed that Dongmin spoke to him less and less, he never mentioned anything. In fact, he just tried to speak with Dongmin more and more to make up for it.

Dongmin only tuned in when Bin discussed the case.

“I finally got Sohyun's phone unlocked,” the younger detective exclaimed one day when Dongmin walked into the station. “But the chief says because nothing is important on here, we're not allowed to use the database to look up the phone numbers.”

Dongmin took a sip of coffee and sighed. “Of course not. It has to be difficult, doesn't it?”

“That's how life is, Detective Lee!” Bin laughed.

He seemed to have forgotten about their previous conversation concerning magic users and the sort. Either that, or he was trying to move past it, trying to convince Dongmin that what he said should have no lasting effect on either of them.

And it _shouldn't_ , save for the fact that Dongmin was a magic user and also very much falling in love with Bin.

“There's nothing we can do about it, then,” Dongmin mumbled, but Bin stopped him before he was able to sit down.

“I have all of the phone numbers around the time of her disappearance,” Bin responded proudly. “Wrote them all down before the chief could take her phone away from me.”

Dongmin glanced over to ensure the chief's door was shut before looking back at Bin. “I'm _certain_ you could get in big trouble for doing that.”

“Yeah, probably.” Bin looked completely unashamed.

“If we can't even access the database, there's no point in having the numbers, though.”

Bin raised his eyebrows before pulling out both the note with the numbers, and then his own phone. Dongmin understood what he was about to do the moment he saw that mischievous smile forming, and he shook his head. “Bin, no.”

“I'm not asking _you_ to do it. Besides, it's not even investigating. I'm simply making a few personal phone calls.” He dialed one of the numbers and held it to his ear. Dongmin watched him in amazement, completely blown away that someone who worked for the law could have so little respect for it. “Anyway, this person isn't picking up their phone.” He waited a few seconds longer before sighing. “Alright, they don't even have a voicemail where I can leave a message.”

“Bin, _stop_. We're not allowed to do this on the clock, especially not when the chief is expecting us to be working on the robbery case he gave us yesterday.”

Bin complied with a small pout, and he pocketed the phone again. “You're curious, too, though, aren't you? One of these numbers could hold the key to Yongjin and Sohyun's disappearances.”

And Bin was right. Dongmin was _extremely_ curious. While the police chief might not find any use in calling each individual phone number listed, Dongmin certainly did, and his longing gaze at the sheet in Bin's hand was enough to prove how curious he truly was.

Bin smiled again. “So I thought that maybe you can come over to my place after work-”

“Wait, what?” Dongmin snapped out of his crime-solving dilemma to face this new issue. “I'm not doing that.”

“Oh, come on. You've seen it already. It's a little messy, but it'll-”

“What do you even want me to come over for?” He hoped Bin couldn't see his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.

“We can use my laptop at home to look up information about these phone numbers,” Bin responded. “I know a few tricks on how to search for this sort of thing, so we might be able to find a connection. Maybe it was someone in their class who _lured_ them away. And if we find this connection, guess what? The chief will have to apologize to us, and then we'll be the coolest detectives ever.” Bin grinned widely, then added, “I mean, _you_ already are, but I might be closer to your level if we do this. Help out a friend, will you?”

“We're work partners,” Dongmin responded weakly. Doing so made Bin lose his smile and roll his eyes, but the younger boy didn't refute the statement. That gave Dongmin a few seconds to think things through. On one hand, his brain warned him that he should absolutely _not_ go to Bin's place after work. His feelings and emotions would get the better of him if he did. His heart, however, bounced around and begged him to go, reminding him that after the case was solved, he would never get the chance to lay his sight on someone so wonderful ever again.

Usually his brain won these fights. This time around, his heart won.

“Fine,” he mumbled, and Bin brightened up again, looking as if he had just won the lottery. “But _only_ for an hour or two, so we can work without the chief noticing. No more, okay?”

“Alright, Detective Lee!” Bin gave him a thumbs-up. “I'll get us pizza – three large pizzas sound okay to you? And I think I have some soda, and maybe-”

“This isn't a party. It's for work.”

“Right, right, I'll totally _not_ get pizza or soda. Not at all.”

Dongmin might have believed that statement if Bin hadn't given a not-so-subtle wink in his direction. As it was, there was nothing he could really do from stopping Bin buying food. As it also was, his heart wanted to pretend it was a date, and so he accepted Bin's blatant date-like-setting in order to appease his emotions.

It was just for a little while, after all. He'd leave after an hour, hopefully with information on their suicide case, and then when he figured everything out, Bin would be gone. He wouldn't have to become close to anyone after this.

They took Bin's car home, and Dongmin decided that he would much rather have Bin scream out _shotgun_ every five seconds than have to ride with him again. He was too confident in his non-existent driving abilities; Dongmin couldn't count the number of times they almost got into wrecks. Bin excused his bad driving with a simple, “I've only had my license for a month or two, I think.”

“How the hell did you ever drive to the crime scene _drunk_?” Dongmin questioned quietly when he was finally able to exit that particular death trap.

“With a lot of swerving,” Bin responded, and he held his hands out in front of him to mimic gripping onto his steering wheel. “I turned like this-” He displayed a variety of wild hand movements which made Dongmin nauseous just _thinking_ about being with Bin during that particular act of stupidity.

“If you do it again, I'm going to kick you out of the police force.”

“You don't have the power to do that,” Bin responded with a scoff. He unlocked his apartment door and gestured for Dongmin to walk in first. The dog – Nancy was her name, Dongmin remembered – was looking at him curiously. Her tail wagged, but she didn't get up to greet him. “Only the chief has the power to do that, and he'll never find out I was drunk, correct?”

Dongmin decided not to inform him that the chief was already fully aware of Bin's less-than-sober arrival to Yongjin's house. “Sure,” he lied instead, and he set his briefcase on the ground after taking off his shoes. “Why isn't Nancy barking?”

“Hm?”

“She barked at me last time I came in.”

“Oh, she's just tired. She's an old dog, you know. I've had her since I was a kid.” Bin patted his knees. “Come here, Nancy!” he commanded in a high-pitched falsetto. “Come say hey to Detective Lee!”

Nancy obeyed her master with enthusiasm, even if it did take her quite some time to finally stand up and hobble on over. Dongmin wondered just how old Nancy truly was, but he didn't question it. Instead, he bent down to pet her. She was a slobbery dog, that was for certain, but Dongmin didn't care. He never had the chance to play with dogs, and he was going to accept whatever dog he could, old and ugly or otherwise.

(He would also accept this date-but-not-quite-a-date, seeing as how it was the closest he'd ever get to having one.)

“I'm going to go ahead and order pizza!” Bin announced. “And we can work on trying to figure out the phone numbers while waiting on it.”

“Bin, I told you not to order pizza.”

“Your eyes said yes.”

“ _Bin_ -”

“Oh, come on, Detective Lee!” Bin pouted again. “I'm hungry. Are you hungry? You didn't even eat lunch today.”

“I'm not,” Dongmin replied, but his stomach gave him away, rumbling loud enough to make Nancy cock her head in confusion. Dongmin cursed the fact that it had been so quiet right then and there, and Bin slowly smiled as he dialed the number for whatever pizza place he was calling.

“Three large pizzas, then,” he murmured to himself.

“Three's a little much,” Dongmin muttered, and he hid his red face by returning to give Nancy some affection.

“I eat a lot,” came Bin's response before he rattled off his order to the cashier over the phone.

As they sat down with the laptop in front of them, Dongmin wondered if this was _actually_ how dates worked. They _were_ sitting rather close; Bin's leg was almost touching Dongmin's leg, and their arms occasionally bumped into each other. They had food on the way, and Bin had gotten both of them some soda to drink, the two cups nestled next to each other behind the laptop. And when Bin drew his feet up under him to get in a more comfortable position, thus jostling Dongmin ever so slightly, he decided that he _liked_ this whole date thing. Even if it wasn't really a date, Dongmin decided that he could get used to this.

(Or, rather, his heart decided, and his brain desperately tried to warn his heart that he was getting into deep trouble by continuing this little charade.)

Bin did a bit of sleuthing for a while, entering the phone numbers into whatever database he had pulled up, but nothing was shown. He called a few of them again – one was a wrong number, two of them were telemarketers, and the other was from her bank. No one seemed to have any idea of where she had gone (the telemarketers just hung up, and Bin joked, “I guess they don't like receiving random calls, huh?”).

When the pizza arrived, they took a quick break in order to pile their plates with what Dongmin referred to as, “ridiculously greasy food,” and what Bin referred to as, “heavenly greasy food.” And when they were back on the couch, Dongmin realized they really _were_ touching this time. Their thighs were pressed together as Bin leaned forward to stare at his laptop and enter in a few other websites.

Dongmin tried to move his leg out of the way, but the only other position to take would have been something rather uncomfortable. Besides, his heart reminded him, this was the one and only chance he would have to do _anything_ this intimate with Bin. He might as well take it before his hour was up and he decided to go home.

His brain counted down diligently until that time, and when five minutes remained in his inner clock, Bin suddenly suggested, “How about a movie?”

It took Dongmin a few seconds to actually respond, too surprised with the random question. “What?”

“I'm all riled up. We can't figure this case out; seriously, we've gotten _nowhere_. So let's just watch a movie to unwind.”

Dongmin shook his head. “I told you I'd only be here an hour. I should get going.”

Before he could move, however, Bin reached out and pushed at his shoulder to ensure he would stay seated on the couch. “Any movie you want, Detective Lee!”

“No, Bin, I'm _going_.”

For a second, it seemed as if Bin was going to continue to argue. However, he finally just shrugged his shoulders and released Dongmin from his hold. “Fine. I guess I'll have to drive you. In the dark, too.”

Damn him. He knew Dongmin's fear all too well, and he played with it perfectly. Dongmin scowled at him before allowing himself to sit back on the couch once again. “I guess I can call a taxi and wait for a bit,” he mumbled.

Bin sighed as he searched his laptop for a good movie. “You know, you _could_ just stay and finish the movie. You don't have to leave so soon. I mean, when was the last chance you got to do this?”

Dongmin had never done it, honestly. He watched movies on his own, but even as a child, his mother hardly allowed him to stay up late with friends to do anything so fun. She claimed that television and movies were bad for the mind, and in order to stay in tip-top shape for entering college and becoming a doctor, he had to spend his free time studying.

He should indulge himself, then, his heart told his brain. He should stay up late, even while utterly exhausted, and watch a movie with a guy he found attractive. Nothing would happen, so what was the harm?

 _Nothing would happen_ , his brain reminded him, and his gaze traveled over to Bin's face as he messed around with his laptop, to his piercing, serious eyes, illuminated by the screen in the otherwise dim room. Dongmin watched closely as Bin's tongue swiped around his lips, and as his mouth moved to say, “How about a superhero movie? Batman's good, right?” And then Dongmin watched as Bin's stare turned suddenly to focus on Dongmin.

Was the question directed at him? Dongmin had lost track of the conversation, and when he realized Bin was waiting for a response to whatever it was he had asked, Dongmin simply nodded his head. It took Bin a second or two to finally look away, but when he did so, he had a smile pulling at his lips and a blush dotting his cheeks.

“Batman's good,” the younger boy repeated quietly, and he started up the movie.

Dongmin didn't pay attention. Instead, he stole glances at Bin throughout the film. The sleepless nights were certainly showing their effect; Bin had started to doze within the first five minutes of the movie. Within twenty minutes, his head had drooped to his chest, and within thirty-five minutes (not that Dongmin's brain was still counting), he had suddenly shifted to the side and leaned up against a very-stiff senior detective.

Said senior detective didn't move. He wasn't sure why he couldn't just push Bin off of him; maybe because Bin needed his sleep, maybe because there was no good way to push him off without making him fall, maybe because Dongmin truly _liked_ this position.

He tried to deny that last _maybe_ , but his heart had appeared to taken over all forms of thought. Dongmin _liked_ Bin leaning up against him. Dongmin liked to imagine such a thing happening later in his life. Perhaps Bin would come home from work, exhausted in such a manner, and Dongmin would put in a movie to help him unwind. And, sometime during that movie, Bin would give into the sweet lullabies of sleep, and he wouldn't even give it a second thought to use Dongmin as his own personal pillow.

Dongmin swallowed thickly, wondering why he suddenly had a lump in his throat. His brain broke through his emotional state to explain that the lump in his throat could be due to the fact that he would _never_ be able to experience such an intimate relationship with Bin, and that this instance was just a mistake, something that was never intended to really go anywhere. Bin simply fell asleep on the closest surface available; it just so happened to be Dongmin.

But, still, Dongmin could pretend, couldn't he? He could pretend it was all real and that Bin truly loved him regardless of his magical ability.

He wondered what type of couple they would be if they _were_ a couple. He wondered if they would be loving and sweet and kind. He was certain they would be. He wanted them to be disgustingly sweet, like the couples he watched in his dramas, always giggling and holding hands and giving each other cute nicknames.

What was a cute nickname, though? Calling him _Bin_ wouldn't cut it if they were dating.

“Bin,” Dongmin whispered, and when his partner didn't make a sound, Dongmin tried again. “Bin?” Still nothing. With the knowledge that Bin was dead to the world, Dongmin carefully, slowly, brought a hand up and brushed at Bin's dark-brown bangs. “Binu...Bin-la...Binnie?”

He liked that one. He liked Binnie. And while Bin didn't make any sound of acknowledgment, while he was still fast asleep, Dongmin imagined him responding with pleasure and cheer. He might kiss Dongmin's cheek if he was awake, and Dongmin would kiss him right back.

 _But what is stopping you now?_ his heart asked him. Bin wouldn't know. Bin was too deep in sleep's grasp, his mouth opening slightly as he breathed deeply, in and out, in and out. His body was pressed firmly up against Dongmin's, his cheek squished into the senior detective's arm.

It would be quick, just a quick kiss, and Dongmin would never do it again. After all, it _was_ his one chance to do anything so close and intimate with Bin. If he was pretending to be domestic, anyway, might as well go all the way.

So he gently pushed Bin's bangs back again, revealing his tanned forehead. The skin was clear, probably soft to the touch, and Dongmin took a deep breath.

“Binnie?” he whispered softly. No response, and Dongmin took the opportunity to lean forward and press his lips up against Bin's skin.

The younger boy's hair tickled his nose, and in such a position, his neck was stretched uncomfortably, but Dongmin didn't care. Dongmin relished the feel of Bin's skin right underneath his lips; it was as soft as Dongmin had imagined it to be.

He puckered his lips, pressing a ghost of a kiss up where they rested on Bin's forehead, and before he could draw back, he felt himself break down.

He would _never_ get this. He had this kiss, this one kiss, where he didn't even receive Bin's permission beforehand. He had crossed so many personal boundaries in order to just press a simple kiss up against Bin's forehead, boundaries he never should have crossed, and now that he had gone so far, he didn't want to come back. He couldn't reel himself in from his intense emotions right then.

He wanted _Bin_.

He wanted Bin wearing that stupid Sherlock Holmes outfit. He wanted Bin crying out _shotgun_ in joy. He wanted Bin obsessing over a case, Bin driving drunk to a crime scene, Bin sympathizing over the plight of magic users -

He wanted Bin.

The tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled back. He had to cover his mouth in order to hide his sobs, and he quickly wiped off the taste of Bin from his lips. He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve to know what it was like to have Bin love him so much. He was a magic user; Bin was normal. He was automatically below Bin in every way, as all magic users were below all normal people in every way.

“Bi-Binnie?” he sobbed out, his voice hitching and breaking. “Binnie, I lo-love you.”

Bin didn't respond. Bin was still fast asleep, and the movie still played, too dark at the moment to properly light Bin up the way he deserved to be lit up.

Dongmin cried for the heartbreak he had experienced already. He had avoided it for so long, and yet his feelings got the better of him.

After a while, after the movie had already ended and Bin had shifted at least twice, Dongmin laid them both down on the couch. Bin curled into Dongmin all the more. Their limbs tangled together, and Dongmin, fresh out of tears and armed only with the sniffles, decided he would make up some excuse for their position in the morning. For now, however, as he ducked his head into Bin's neck and breathed in his scent, he realized he would allow himself to continue to play pretend.

At least, he would allow himself to play pretend for an hour and fifteen minutes, according to his phone when it rang to wake him up some time later. His eyes were puffy and he had to move Bin around in order to dig in his own pocket to figure out who was calling him at such an ungodly hour of the morning.

Bin whined, finally waking slightly from his slumber, and he gripped onto Dongmin all the more. “Don't answer it,” he mumbled, and his voice was husky, cracking from the sudden awakening. Dongmin found it endearing, too much so, and his heart continued its painful ache.

Dongmin sniffed once, rubbing at his nose, and then clicked the button to answer. As he did so, Bin moaned and held onto Dongmin tightly. “Put it down, come back to sleep,” he mumbled out.

Dongmin heard it just fine; so did the person on the other end of the phone.

“Is that Bin?” the police chief asked.

Dongmin would have panicked had he not been trying to hide the fact that his throat was sore from crying too much just an hour or two earlier. “No,” he lied.

“It sounded like Bin.”

“It isn't-” But he couldn't keep up a conversation with Bin nuzzling into his mid-section. He tried to pry the younger boy away from him. “Bin!” he hissed. “Get up! Stop cuddling with me!”

“You just said his name,” the police chief spoke in Dongmin's ear.

Dongmin wondered why he couldn't just die right then and there. His heart was broken and now his pride was broken, and he would have much preferred death.

“It's not what it seems,” Dongmin assured, thankful for the fact that the police chief was unable to see the blush across Dongmin's face, nor was he able to see the tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

“You know what? I don't even care. It makes it easier, I guess, if you're sleeping with – I mean, _hanging out_ with Bin.”

Dongmin _did_ wish the chief could see his glower right then. “What do you want?”

“Calm down, it's...interesting. Yongjin's girlfriend is, um...missing.”

Dongmin blinked once, then sat straight up, completely jostling Bin and making the poor boy moan all the more. “She's what? Bin, get up.”

He heard the police chief mutter something along the lines of, “these two...finally...” but he was far more concerned with shaking Bin awake.

“I'll text you the address,” the police chief stated. “Come as quickly as possible. You guys were onto something, and if someone else ends up dying, I'm going to have to call in other special forces to help us deal with it.”

“That won't happen,” Dongmin assured him, and they said their goodbyes. Dongmin's phone dinged once, indicating the police chief had sent him the text, but, for the moment, Dongmin had to force Bin to get up off of the couch.

And he had to force his feelings all the way back down to his shattered heart, hopeful that his brain would be able to lock them away for good.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't, KAPOW, I MADE IT SAD. i had a lot of stuff to say in these end notes, but i forgot all of them, so oops. we're halfway done with this, though! ten more chapters!
> 
> hit me up with dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) because snuper is having a comeback and astro probably will be very soon, too, and it's too much at once.


	11. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bin didn't respond again. He continued to glance at Dongmin, and there was something in his gaze that Dongmin really couldn't quite put his finger on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh im not overly satisfied with this chapter, but there's some progression of plot for once and a lack of cute binu, and i've learned im bad at plot and good at cute binu.

Bin ended up driving again, and he commented on the fact that Dongmin really had nothing to say about his terrible driving skills. “You've been quiet ever since we had to get up,” Bin murmured after receiving no response from the senior detective. “Is it because, um...I know our position was a little weird, and I'm _really_ sorry about that, it's just – I mean, you spooned _me_ the other day! And your spooning was more intimate, I think, even if I was kind of nuzzling-”

“Bin.” Dongmin ran his fingers through his hair. It was already messy, since he had fallen asleep for a bit on Bin's couch and hadn't much of a chance to actually comb it back as he normally did, so he supposed it didn't matter how much more he mussed with it. “I don't need a play-by-play. I was there.”

“Right.” Bin cleared his throat, then glanced over at Dongmin. “I liked it.”

Dongmin felt a headache beginning to form, but that was overshadowed by the way his heart seemed to thump weakly in his chest, having already given up hope but still longing to hear Bin's words of admiration and affection. He hated emotions. “Bin.”

“You don't need to have liked it. It was my fault, anyway. I mean, _this_ time it was my fault. The spooning was all-”

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

“I see the road, Detective Lee! Look, I'm just saying, I'm sorry about what we did. Or, I mean, sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” Bin's eyes were back to the road, fortunately, driving a little too fast for comfort. “But it was nice, anyway.”

Dongmin's emotions were trying to get the best of him. He wanted to agree with Bin, to comment on how nice he, too, thought it all had been, to have the chance to do it again with Bin actually conscious the next time around. However, his heart really _had_ given up. It allowed his brain to sharply remind him of his abilities, of who he truly was, and he forced his own wants and desires back down again, blocking them away for good.

When Bin realized Dongmin wasn't going to speak again, he cast the older boy a desperate look. “Please say something about-”

“Just keep your eyes on the road. I'm tired, Bin, I just want to go there and get this over with.” He was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. He cursed the gods and the heavens and whoever else would listen for making him _this way_. Had he been normal, he could cuddle and spoon and kiss Bin as often as he wanted. Bin would allow it, too. Bin wouldn't cast him aside or show any form of fear if Dongmin was _normal_.

Bin didn't respond again. He continued to glance at Dongmin, and there was something in his gaze that Dongmin really couldn't quite put his finger on. He didn't even try reading Bin's mind, however, knowing full well that it wouldn't work, and knowing full well that if it _did_ work, he might find the love there that he could never receive.

The rest of the trip passed in silence, and when Bin finally pulled up to the address the chief had given them, Dongmin was ready to immerse himself solely in work.

They exited the vehicle, and Bin seemed ready to talk some more, but, fortunately for Dongmin, the police chief hurried up just then to give them the run-down. “Nice of the _two of you_ to join us,” he mumbled, and then nudged Dongmin. “How was it?”

“How was what?” Bin asked, and Dongmin shot both of the men a very well-practiced glower.

“Just – what's going on? Just tell us, please. Don't mention any of _that_ again, Chief.”

“Don't mention what?” Bin whispered to Dongmin, who pointedly ignored him.

The chief rolled his eyes, but then gestured for the detectives to follow him up the stairs of the house. “Her name is Hyejeong, as you guys already know when you spoke with her. She was dating Yongjin before his death, and she was good friends with Sohyun, and I know I brushed both of you off, but now we really _do_ have a case on our hands.”

“When did she disappear?” Dongmin asked, pulling his small notebook out of his breast pocket and jotting down a few lines of information.

“Her mother said Hyejeong received a call and then informed her parents that she was going outside for a few minutes. After an hour passed and she wouldn't answer her phone, they ended up calling the police.”

Bin, as per usual, Dongmin noticed, wasn't writing down any information. Dongmin wondered just how much Bin could retain, especially when he always acted so foolish.

(It was endearing. Dongmin's heart gave a small cry of pain, which his logic quickly hushed.)

“Do the parents know of any reason why Hyejeong would have left and not returned?” Bin asked. “Maybe she's visiting a friend and forgot to tell them?”

The chief shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. Look...try to convince them that's the case.”

“We won't lie to them,” Dongmin mumbled, putting the cap back on his fancy pen. “Their daughter went missing and she's most likely going to kill herself. It's the pattern, and I won't cherry-pick the truth.”

Bin's eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head. “We shouldn't say that to them, Detective Lee. Let me do the comforting. They're probably worried as it is, since I assume they've heard about both Yongjin and Sohyun's deaths, and with all three of the students being connected, they already think, most likely, that Hyejeong is the next to die. Why would we just bluntly tell them that we _also_ think she'll die?”

“Because we do,” Dongmin responded. “Come on, Bin, do you _honestly_ think we can find her when we don't have any clues for this case, either?”

Bin scoffed. “You haven't even looked yet.”

“I don't _need_ to look.”

“How else will you find clues, then?”

“I have my own ways, Bin.”

Bin stared at him for a few seconds before sighing loudly and looking away. Dongmin felt bad for being harsh, but if it was possible to _force_ Bin to stop being so kind and affectionate to him, it was just a task Dongmin had to preform. He had locked up his feelings beforehand, so why was it so difficult to not feel a yearning in his heart when Bin so much as glanced at him?

“Let's just go talk to her,” Bin mumbled, and the chief, having watched the exchange, looked back and forth between the two boys in confusion.

“You seemed to be getting along _so well_ -” he whispered loudly to Dongmin, who simply gave a sharp intake of breath and opened the front doors to Hyejeong's house.

He had to immerse himself in the case. He couldn't allow either the police chief nor Bin to distract him from simply living his life the only way he knew how; alone and without any dramatic issues. Distractions would sway him, cause him to trail after people who would only end up tossing him aside after they learned the truth. He wasn't going to be one of the magic users who continued to run from those same issues, as Myungjun was, and he wasn't going to be one of those magic users who lingered, jobless and homeless and awaiting acceptance with cracked and broken hearts.

So after one deep breath and a promise to himself that he would begin to prepare Bin's transfer papers that night, he started questioning the mother.

Perhaps he was too harsh, he realized, after asking her, “Has Hyejeong ever shown any suicidal tendencies?” Perhaps reminding her of the problems that had occurred with Yongjin and Sohyun wasn't really the best way to go about his interrogation, because she ended up bursting into tears and burying her head into her hands.

Bin stepped forward, obviously trying to comfort her as he had for other moms, but the woman's husband came first, sitting down next to his wife and holding her tightly. He shot Dongmin a distrustful glance as he did so, and muttered, “Hyejeong is happy with life, and has never felt the need to do such a thing, and she _will not_ do such a thing. She was kidnapped.”

Neither he nor Bin informed them of what the official police stance had been for the past two suicides. However, now that a third victim had been taken, it was clear that the entire office was much more on edge. The chief searched the girl's bedroom with them, continuously making the conjecture that _something_ had to hold some sort of clue.

But Dongmin's mind-reading abilities couldn't pick up clues from just the parents. He needed to find the victims first, which was impossible if they were gone.

“Other than all knowing each other, how are they all connected?” Bin asked as he drove them back to the station. The sun wasn't even up yet and Dongmin, running on very little sleep, rested his head on the window and closed his eyes. “Maybe they all know someone else? It might be a teacher. I don't think we've thought through that angle.”

“Maybe,” Dongmin mumbled. It was a good idea, and he decided the next course should be to talk to teachers at the high school.

“Maybe it was one of Sohyun's friends, too. Her mother mentioned before that Sohyun hung around bad people. Maybe one of them was mad at her for ditching them?”

“Could be.”

“But what _still_ doesn't make sense is how the two deaths before were suicides. If it was a kidnapping, it'd be a _homicide_ , but Yongjin, at least, willingly stuck that knife in his throat.”

Dongmin sighed and moved his head in an attempt to find a better position. “Except he struggled.”

“Well, if he was kidnapped and managed to escape, why would he knock on his door, wait for his mom to answer, stab himself, and _then_ change his mind?” Bin tapped the steering wheel with a finger as they slowed to a halt. “None of this makes sense.”

And it didn't; neither, though, did the fact that Bin was turning his car off despite Dongmin knowing full well that they hadn't yet made it to the police station. He blinked his eyes open and realized they were parked in front of a cheap-looking coffee shop.

“Bin-”

“I need to wake up, Detective Lee, and that nasty coffee at the station isn't going to cut it. I need something sugary and cold.”

He was getting out of his car, and when Dongmin glared over at him, Bin shrugged. “You can wait, I guess. I'll buy you something if you come, though.”

Dongmin wanted to wait, just so he wouldn't have to be around Bin longer than necessary. However, with the driver-side door open, the smell of coffee was wafting into the car and Dongmin realized how much he needed something, as well. He mentally cursed his dependence on caffeine before exiting the vehicle (slamming the door louder than necessary) and following Bin into the cafe.

“To be honest, this coffee might be nasty, too,” Bin suddenly commented with a small chuckle. “But I guess it will have to do, if it's something sugary and cold.”

“Why would it be nasty?”

“Because it's a twenty-four hour coffee shop,” Bin responded as he and Dongmin stepped up to the counter. “It's made to serve people like us who've had no sleep in the past decade and who don't care about the taste, as long as they can wake up for a relatively cheap price.”

Bin's cheeky grin and wink sent his way made Dongmin's heart try to fix its shattered shell, but then he had to remind it that he wasn't loved and he would never _be_ loved.

So his heart remained in pieces.

When they both had their coffee, the sky was beginning to take on a lighter color of blue. The stars began fading out and the moon was settling down, waiting for the sun to take its place. Dongmin stood still as he looked up, relishing in the few seconds of peace and quiet he was able to achieve before Bin started to struggle with pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“I guess you can owe me for that,” the younger boy muttered, “so next time we work a really ridiculous case, you can buy _me_ coffee.”

_Next time_. Dongmin swallowed past the lump in his throat as he tore his eyes away from the impending sunrise and instead glanced over at Bin. _Next time_ would never happen. He would ensure Bin's departure, focus on placing him in a city department as far away as he could possibly find, and hopefully his mind would begin to lose all memories of his time with Bin after a few days had passed.

“Detective Lee?”

Bin's voice cut through his thoughts, reminding Dongmin once again of the situation he was _currently_ in.

“What?”

“Let me see that picture of Hyejeong, please.”

It was unlike Bin to suddenly be so calm, so polite. Even in his exhaustive states, he was a little more casual than that. Dongmin blinked in confusion before gesturing for Bin to open the door. “The case file is in here.”

Bin did so hurriedly, keeping his gaze elsewhere, and while Dongmin flipped through his folder, Bin began to become increasingly more energetic.

“Detective Lee, _hurry_ , I need to see-”

“Calm down, it's right here.” Dongmin held it up, and Bin took one look at it before snatching it up. “What the hell are you doing, Bin?”

“That's her!”

“What?”

Bin pointed across the street. Dongmin followed his finger to spot two girls standing nearby. One was looking down at her phone, eyes narrowed in concentration. The other stood by blankly, and after Dongmin glanced down at the photograph once more, he realized _that_ girl was Hyejeong.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, and he stuffed the photograph in Bin's hands. “What's she doing?”

“Is that a friend of hers, maybe? The girl on her phone?”

Dongmin shook his head. “I'm not sure,” he responded. The girl suddenly looked up from her phone, however, and moved to say something to Hyejeong, who only nodded in response.

“Let's go get her, then, and take her back home,” Bin suddenly mumbled, and he stepped forward.

Dongmin grabbed his arm quickly, however, and held him back. “Hold on,” he whispered. The girls were beginning to walk off, and Bin struggled slightly against Dongmin's grip. “Bin, wait. I need to call for backup.”

“Why? Look, she's harmless.”

“Why wasn't she answering her phone? And why didn't she tell her parents where she was? And what, exactly, is she even _doing_ here with a friend?” Dongmin pulled out his own cell phone and dialed the number for the police station.

“Detective Lee, they're going to get away if we just sit back and wait!”

Dongmin realized that Bin was correct; the two girls _were_ walking away, about to round the corner, and with a sigh, he released Bin's arm. “Alright, we'll follow them, then. But we're going to stay far behind and ensure she doesn't see us.”

Bin was quiet for a few seconds before asking, “You have a bad feeling about it, too, don't you?”

“I do. It's just too _easy_ – it doesn't make sense, and I'm worried she might do something drastic if we suddenly grab onto her. With an extra policeman, we might be able to corner her before she realizes it.” Dongmin gestured at the two girls as they rounded the corner. “Go on! I'll catch up, just go and follow them.”

He didn't have to tell Bin twice, and as Dongmin relayed the information back to the chief, who requested for one of the available cops to go assist the two detectives, Bin was hurrying after them. Dongmin _did_ catch up rather easily, fortunately. The two girls walked slow enough that staying far behind them was no issue.

They had all but abandoned their coffees after a few minutes, tossing them in the first garbage bin they found, and Bin mumbled something about, “this shitty, slow police service we've got.” Dongmin agreed that it _was_ taking longer than necessary, but he realized that their constant movement was bound to confuse whatever GPS the policeman was using.

When he did finally arrive, he seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, and he didn't ask too many questions about what exactly was going on.

The sun was just coming up as the two girls turned down an alleyway. Dongmin stopped for a second before glancing at the policeman. “You know this city well, don't you, Officer Choi?”

Officer Choi nodded his head, and Dongmin continued, “Take Bin, then, and round the corner – cut them off at the other end of the alley. I'll cut them off this way.”

“Why are we cutting them off, though? Why don't we just stop the girls and question them?” Officer Choi asked.

Dongmin tightened his lips. “I don't feel as if it's entirely safe, somehow. I've been through enough situations that _seem_ harmless to feel a little cautious,” he explained.

“We don't have time for questions, anyway,” Bin hissed out as he nudged Officer Choi. “Let's just _go_!”

Once more, Officer Choi seemed to understand that he should question the entire situation at a later time; he led Bin around the corner in a rush, and then Dongmin finally had the chance to step into the alley, following the two girls. He didn't say anything until Hyejeong's companion glanced back at him, and her eyes widened suddenly.

“Hyejeong?” Dongmin called out; she, too, glanced back. They had both stopped at this point, staring at Dongmin, and the senior detective saw Bin and Officer Choi come from behind them, as well. At least now, he thought, he could properly speak to Hyejeong without the possibility of her running off. Bin and Officer Choi guarded one side of them; he guarded the other.

“Hyejeong, Detective Moon and I need to speak with you regarding-”

He was unable to say anything else, however, before the scene changed in front of his eyes. No longer were the two girls looking at him in slight shock; instead, Hyejeong moved quickly, a knife procuring out of thin air and finding a home in her hand. She grabbed her companion violently, roughly, and the knife was held up to the other girl's throat.

The other girl gave a small scream, which was cut short when Hyejeong shook her. “If you three don't leave now, I _will_ kill her,” Hyejeong warned.

The look of terror on Bin's face was easy to spot, but Dongmin only spared him a short glance before turning his full attention to Hyejeong. He took the opportunity of the few seconds of silence to delve into the girl's mind in order to appease his own confusion about the entire situation.

Her mind revealed hatred and anger, and it all seemed directed at Yongjin. Dongmin's confusion certainly wasn't driven away then, but it instead multiplied. He had never seen anything in Hyejeong's mind originally that would suggest anything but love toward her boyfriend, and her thoughts didn't seem like what he had read when he first met her.

But, then, what had _changed_?

“She's a magic user!” Bin announced, and Dongmin's head snapped over to his partner, who was pointing at Hyejeong. “She made a knife appear – Dongmin, she's a _witch_!”

The lack of title wasn't what shocked Dongmin; rather, it was the fact that Bin's accusation was probably correct. But Dongmin didn't know _how_ it was correct – if she had been a witch, if she had been this angry with Yongjin, why didn't he pick up on it during his original assessment?

He had to diffuse the situation, in any case, and he glanced over at Officer Choi for assistance. However, if he thought things couldn't get more out of hand, he was certainly proven wrong. Officer Choi, with no provocation, suddenly grabbed Bin by the hair. Dongmin heard his partner cry out loudly in pain and surprise, and before Dongmin himself could react, Officer Choi had reared back his free arm and delivered a harsh punch to the junior detective's face.

“Officer Choi!” Dongmin yelled, but it was as if the policeman hadn't even heard him. Another punch came before Bin had the chance to properly raise up his hands in defense, and the younger boy stumbled backwards and fell to the ground.

He needed to help Bin – that was the only thing on his mind when he saw blood near Bin's lip, and he _needed to help Bin_ – but the girl in Hyejeong's grasp screamed again as the knife suddenly moved, pressing up further to the girl's neck and piercing the skin lightly.

Dongmin's logic failed him; his brain failed him. He froze as his eyes darted between the two girls and his partner.

_What the hell?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also adding i _suck_ at action sequences. this isn't even an actual action sequence and it's awful. but i dont think i can do better than this, im so sorry.
> 
> send me dollar bills regardless of the low quality [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com). thank you if you read this far! next chapter will hopefully be better?


	12. twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chief plopped down in his chair and waved a hand. “You just do your thing, Dongmin. I trust you. Make sure Bin is alright, though. He might need a few healing kisses-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do we discover in this chapter? not much.

Dongmin really needed to get his priorities in order.

When he had become a detective, he made it his life mission to focus first and foremost on innocent victims. While his coworkers _were_ an important part of the police force, and while he certainly didn't wish harm on any of them, they also knew exactly what they were getting into when they chose their career path. Therefore, when Dongmin's logic finally kicked into gear again, he tried to push his strong, emotional feelings for Bin aside and rescue the girl in front of him.

Though his heart informed him that the only reason he was rescuing the girl first was because Bin and Officer Choi were behind the two girls, and it would only make sense to have a pit stop before putting his attention on the man he loved.

(His heart ached again, however, reminding him that he loved Bin, that he would do anything for Bin, that he would gladly take Bin's place and die for Bin. He couldn't think like that, though, not right at the moment when he had to work on rescuing this girl and trying to figure out how to arrest a violent witch.)

“Hyejeong-” he stated calmly, and he stepped forward.

Hyejeong's eyes were wide, and her grip on the knife tightened, yet it didn't move across the girl's neck anymore than she already _had_ moved it. “Don't come closer!” she warned. “I'll kill her!”

Dongmin stared harshly at the witch, delving right back into her mind and trying to block out the sounds of the struggle Bin was currently engaged in. Any distractions might cause him to make a misstep.

Fortunately, at the forefront of Hyejeong's mind was hesitation, confusion, a lack of _desire_ to kill. The hatred was growing weaker with every passing second, and Dongmin decided to take a chance and step forward again.

“You won't kill her,” he murmured. He saw a drop of blood appear under the knife, presumably from the victim's skin as it was pierced ever so slightly. The victim was trying not to move much, but her eyes were full of fear. Dongmin took a deep breath and came all the closer.

His original assumption was correct; Hyejeong would _not_ kill the girl in her grips. Instead, as Dongmin inched nearer to her, she panicked. The knife dropped from her hands and clattered on the ground, and she pushed her victim aside. Instantly, the other girl scrambled to her feet and ran, her screams echoing in the alleyway as she turned the corner.

Dongmin would worry about her later, though. For now, he needed to get Hyejeong under his control, and with the final step, he reached out to grab her harshly. He pulled her arms behind her to assure she wouldn't also try to run, and, surprisingly enough, she complied very easily. She was shaking in Dongmin's strong grasp, and when he took one last peek into her mind, he was shocked to see nothing but absolute confusion and fear. Gone were the angry, horrid thoughts focused on Yongjin; instead, she seemed frightened and lost.

She wasn't planning to struggle, however, so he turned his gaze up to his partner. Officer Choi had Bin by the hair again, fist reared back as Bin tried (painfully, it looked like) to pull away. “Officer Choi!” Dongmin barked out again, and this time, his words seemed to have some sort of effect. The policeman glanced over at Dongmin. “Let him _go_!”

The cop stood still for a second before glancing over at Bin in horror. He released the junior detective, who instantly delivered his own punch to Officer Choi's face. “What the _fuck_ was that?!” Bin screeched out as the officer stumbled backwards. “What the _hell_ -!”

“Bin!” Dongmin called, and with the girl still in his own hands, he dragged her over to where Bin stood. Officer Choi was rubbing at his face with a moan, looking quite distraught and utterly confused. “Bin, are you alright?” He stared at his partner with worry. There was a large bruise forming over Bin's right eye, splotches of purple and yellow already spreading out across the wound. His cheeks were red and scraped from where he had fallen on the ground, and his lip was cut open, blood streaked down to his chin.

Still, he seemed focused and clear-minded enough to cease his yelling and meet Dongmin's gaze. “I'm fine,” he reassured the senior detective. “Are you okay? Did you save the other girl?”

“I did. She ran, though.” Dongmin glanced over at Hyejeong, who had begun to cry, and then back at Officer Choi. “We need to get both of them to the station. Place him under arrest, too.”

Bin gently wiped some of the blood off of his face with his hand. “Am I allowed to place an officer under arrest?”

“For now, yes. We need to figure this all out.”

Bin nodded his head, then cautiously approached Officer Choi, who blinked up at Bin's injuries.

“What the hell?” Officer Choi whispered. “Detective Bin, I'm _so sorry_ , I wasn't – what happened?”

Bin wasn't very gentle with his handling of the police officer, who gave a gasp of pain when the younger boy pulled his arms behind his back. “Where's your handcuffs?” he snapped. “God, you're a _bastard_ – what was your problem-?”

“Bin, we can ask questions later,” Dongmin gently reminded him. “Let's just get them back to the station.”

And while Dongmin knew Bin longed to continue being rough and to continue fussing, he obeyed the order rather well. Dongmin drove them both back to allow Bin a chance to rest. The poor boy was looking at his face in the visor mirror, wincing whenever he put a hand up to the bruise.

“Don't touch it,” Dongmin muttered.

“I'm just checking the damage.”

“It's very badly damaged. Don't touch it right now. You should go to the hospital and make sure nothing's _too_ badly damaged.”

Bin sighed before glancing back at the two people in the backseat of his car. Hyejeong was still crying, leaning up against the window and giving long,drawn-out sobs. Officer Choi had continuously tried apologizing, stammering out that he had no clue what happened, but Bin had ignored all of that in favor of scoffing.

“What do you think?” he asked Dongmin quietly. “It's weird, isn't it?”

Dongmin didn't answer at first. He waited until he hit a stop-light to glance over at Bin. He felt bad for his partner; his face really _was_ bruised up, the area around his eye turning puffy, and without even thinking it through, he reached over and gently scraped off some of the dried blood with his thumb.

“Very weird,” he murmured. Bin's good eye seemed to widen, and Dongmin couldn't tell if that was a blush spreading out across his cheeks, what with all of the other wounds he had scattered about.

Bin cleared his throat and glanced behind him again, ensuring that neither of the two people in the backseat cared about Dongmin's blatant display of affection. They didn't seem to, mostly on account of their own immense confusion.

Dongmin himself was very confused, and nothing he thought of made any sense. Hyejeong didn't appear to be a witch all of a sudden. In any case, she wasn't using any of her powers, and her crying didn't stop, even when they arrived at the station. Officer Choi was someone Dongmin had worked with multiple times before, and he had never shown any sort of change in behavior as he had when he randomly attacked Bin.

“This makes _no sense_ ,” he told Bin as they pulled the supposed criminals out of the car and pushed them up to the front of the station. “I still don't know what the hell happened.”

“We can sit them down in the interrogation rooms and figure it out,” Bin responded.

“What about... _Hyejeong_?” Dongmin had the girl in his grasp, and he was ensuring there was no way for her to escape. Last thing they needed was an apparent witch running amok. “Will it be safe to have someone put in a room with her? She's a _witch_.”

Witches were dangerous, incredibly so, and Dongmin barely felt comfortable keeping a tight hold on her. At any minute, she could produce some form of magic that could render him useless.

Bin contemplated that for a second before saying, “We have one or two special forces members who work here, right? Have them go in the room, and if she tries to do anything, they'll shoot her.”

It was a good plan, and Dongmin nodded. “You take Officer Choi, then,” he stated. “I'll work on Hyejeong.”

“Are you sure?” Bin shifted slightly. “It's...it's dangerous, and I don't want you-”

“I don't want _you_ involved with danger,” Dongmin interrupted, and, once again, he could have sworn that Bin's cheeks held a blush. In any case, his nose became a little pinker, and he looked rather surprised from Dongmin's statement. He didn't argue, though. He ducked his head after a few seconds and nodded before pushing Officer Choi off into one of the open interrogation rooms.

Dongmin did the same with Hyejeong, and he left her there, police guarding the outside, while he explained to the police chief exactly what was going on.

The chief looked horrified, and instantly asked, “Is Bin alright?”

“He's fine. His face is messed up, but he's not in any immediate harm.” Thankfully so. Dongmin's heart breathed a sigh of relief along with the police chief.

“Special Forces Officer Hong can stay with you while you question Hyejeong,” the chief mumbled, and he picked up his phone. “I'll call the government to explain the situation.”

“The government?”

The chief nodded. “We have to inform them if we come across any witches. They'll dispose of her.”

Dongmin bit his bottom lip. He didn't know if he should yet mention that he truly didn't believe Hyejeong _was_ a witch. While she had preformed spells, it was strange that she suddenly stopped doing so the moment she was caught. “What will they do to her?”

“Same thing they do to other witches,” the chief replied. “Depending on the skill set, I mean. The less-talented witches are typically used for a few tests and experiments, so that way scientists can better understand how witches work. If it's a dangerous witch, though, they kill them.”

Dongmin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Just like that, huh?”

“Well, they make _sure_ first, based on the crimes they committed. And the way they kill them is different, too. The weaker ones are simply given shots – you know, like they do with animals who are too old. The stronger ones are burned.”

“Burned?” Dongmin's eyes widened.

“I don't know why you're so shocked. Witches shouldn't be allowed to exist.” The chief shrugged his shoulders. “Burning is sometimes the only way to kill one of them. They used to do it in Europe, you know, maybe America. They might still do it there. We don't know how other countries dispose of witches.”

He was dialing the number, and Dongmin shook his head. “Don't call yet,” he demanded.

The chief looked confused. “What?”

“Don't call yet. I need to make _sure_ she's a witch.” He had his doubts when she had given up so quickly. Maybe it was a trap, but from the absolute fear in her mind, he didn't believe she would trick him like that. While the only explanation was the fact that Hyejeong _was_ a witch, Dongmin refused to condemn the girl to her death without double-checking the facts first. “I'll take ten minutes, and I'll let you know the answer.”

The chief stopped dialing. “Ten minutes to figure out if she's a witch?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, a sudden onslaught of a painful silence, and Dongmin watched as the chief hesitated with the phone in his hands. It was finally dropped to his desk. “You know, Detective Lee,” the chief murmured, “sometimes I wonder how someone as _normal_ as you can do the things you do.”

Dongmin wasn't sure what he meant by that. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, nothing.” The chief plopped down in his chair and waved a hand. “You just do your thing, Dongmin. I trust you. Make sure Bin is alright, though. He might need a few healing kisses-”

“I'm going,” Dongmin mumbled, and he turned quickly in an attempt to hide the blush spreading across his own face. The chief's cackling laughter followed him out, and he had to take a few seconds to compose himself.

Fortunately, he was more curious in cracking the case than he was in dealing with his emotional _Bin Issues_ , so he found the special forces officer rather hurriedly. Word seemed to have spread that Dongmin caught a witch, for the man was already prepared, armed with a weapon that made Dongmin feel slightly uneasy.

“Listen, _please_ don't draw that unless I ask you to,” Dongmin pleaded with him before they entered the interrogation room. “She's harmless right now-”

“Witches are never harmless,” Officer Hong responded, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I'll keep a close eye on her, and the moment she tries _anything_ , I'm going to ensure that the two of us remain alive and well.”

Dongmin knew he really had no argument. Witches _were_ dangerous, and he would much rather be alive, at least until the case was completely solved. So, with a defeated nod, he entered the room and gestured for Officer Hong to stand off to the side.

Hyejeong looked up when the two men walked in, and Dongmin could just _see_ the desperation in her gaze. Her hands gripped the table tightly, and she blinked past some of the tears that had been gathered in her eyes. “A-Am I in trouble?” she asked. Her voice shook.

“We're not sure,” Dongmin responded truthfully, and he sat down across from the girl. She looked as if she hadn't slept in a while, something Dongmin could very much relate to. “Hyejeong, what do you remember after your disappearance? What exactly happened?”

Hyejeong swallowed thickly. “I...I got a call from a classmate. She had to come by my house and pick up some notes she had missed, and so I went...went down to give it t-to her.” She nervously glanced over at Officer Hong, who stared straight back at her. “And...that's all I remember.”

Officer Hong sighed loudly, but Dongmin was far more intrigued. “That's it?”

Hyejeong nodded. “I ha-had gone outside and then I don't re-remember what happened. I've tried – I just remember hearing sc-screaming, and I looked around and I had a kn-knife.” The girl let out a choked sob and then bent her head down to her chest, hands coming up to wipe at her tears. “I do-don't know what happened!”

And when Dongmin peered into her mind, he found she was telling the truth. She honestly had no idea what _had_ happened. Her memory was blank from the moment she met up with her classmate, and Dongmin realized she actually wasn't a witch.

“Alright,” he murmured quietly. The girl looked up at him, hopeful. “I believe you, I truly do, but we need more evidence than just that. Do you have any idea who the classmate was? Was she the girl that was with you?”

Hyejeong blinked and appeared in thought for a few seconds. “I...I think so. I didn't get a-a good look at her face, um, before she ran, but the hair was the same. The long, black hair – Seojin is her name.”

“Seojin?” Dongmin quickly took his notebook out to write that down. “And what is her connection with you? Is she just a classmate?”

Hyejeong nodded her head. “Y-Yes. We shared a few classes together. She was quiet, but nice – am I allowed to go?”

Dongmin knew better than to send her off just yet, not when they hadn't even gotten a chance to continue the investigation. And while he was one hundred percent certain Hyejeong wasn't the witch, wasn't even a _criminal_ in this case, it would look bad if he were to send her off without finding the actual culprit.

“Not yet,” he murmured, and when Hyejeong looked distraught, he added, “Soon, though. I need to first find out what's going on, and I _will_. And then, I promise, Hyejeong, you'll go free.”

She seemed to accept that with a sorrowful nod, and Dongmin offered her a small smile. “It'll be alright. We'll call your parents to inform them where you are.”

“Do I need a guard in with me?” she questioned, her voice quiet.

Dongmin glanced back at Officer Hong, who shook his head. “No. Not now. Just sit tight, and we'll work this out.”

He was happy he left before she started to cry again. He felt pity for her, truly; she was caught up in a situation she seemed to have no idea about.

But, he decided, he was a bad detective, because while his brain longed to stew on the case for a while loner, his heart forced him into the direction of Bin, who was seated at his desk and trying to check the damage to his face in his phone camera. When he noticed Dongmin walking over to him, he smiled and placed his cell phone back down.

“Hey. Did you find out anything?” Bin asked.

Dongmin sat in his own chair and rolled it over to Bin's desk. “I don't think she's the culprit,” he murmured, looking over the wound.

Bin wrinkled up his nose, then winced and allowed his expression to relax again. “Shit, sorry, my entire face _hurts_ – what do you mean, though? She had the other girl hostage. How is she _not_ the culprit?”

Dongmin hesitated for a second before mumbling, “She's just not. Let me see your face, Bin. God, why didn't you get cleaned up before interrogating Officer Choi?”

Bin giggled lightly as Dongmin took his chin in his hands. “So he could see just how badly he beat me up.”

“So you're trying to guilt him?”

“Precisely.”

“Did it work?”

Bin nodded as much as he could with Dongmin handling his face. “He cried a little bit. I didn't mean to make him _cry_ , but I guess he's pretty upset over the whole situation.” As Dongmin began trying to rub off some of the blood with a tissue he had grabbed, Bin stayed silent. But then - “He _says_ he doesn't remember any of it.”

Dongmin pulled the tissue back. “What?”

“He told me all he remembers is me and him sneaking up behind the girls, and then he remembers you yelling at him and he had me by my hair. He says he doesn't remember anything in between.”

It sounded too similar to Hyejeong's memory description, and Dongmin, still cupping Bin's chin, stared at him in confusion. “He doesn't remember?”

“He _says_ he doesn't.”

“And Hyejeong doesn't remember a thing – she's not a witch, Bin.”

Bin scoffed. “She definitely is.”

“No, she's not. When I read her mind, _nothing_ about her being a witch came up, which was honestly why I was so confused when she suddenly had the other girl-”

“Wait.” Bin jerked his head away from Dongmin's hands. His eyes were wide, even the one that was bruised heavily, and he took a deep breath as he stared at the senior detective. Dongmin wondered if he had something on his own face.

“Bin, what's wrong?”

Bin looked tense all of a sudden, and he hesitated. Dongmin was about to repeat his own question before Bin finally did answer.

“You _read her mind?_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #OOPS. good going keeping it secret, dongmin you moron.
> 
> idk when the next chapter will be out. hopefully early this week, most likely wednesday. dont let me put it out tomorrow, i actually need to do something called schoolwork.
> 
> hit me up with dollar bills tho [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) because i am so poor right now.


	13. thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin didn't want to see Bin leave. As much as he knew he should allow himself to be punished for even thinking about falling in love with someone, his heart decided it wanted a chance to be happy for once. It wanted a chance to fight for the love he felt he so truly deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing gets figured out in this chapter, you can probably skip a lot of it lol. also it sucks. holla.

Dongmin remembered the first birthday party he had ever attended.

His mother didn't particularly like the idea of birthday parties. She would celebrate Dongmin's birthday by inviting a few family members over, usually his grandparents and _maybe_ his father, if he was in town. She would make seaweed soup and Dongmin would receive a few presents, mostly things he could use for school. It was all he really knew of birthdays until Kim Myungjun decided to invite him to _his_ birthday party.

“You'd better come!” Myungjun had demanded. “Because my mom's buying a _ton_ of cool stuff, like cake and games and party hats, so if you don't come, you'll miss out on it all! _Everyone's_ invited!”

He had sent out invitations to his entire class, so when the day of the party arrived and Dongmin was the only attendee, the cake and games and party hats suddenly seemed to be mocking the both of them.

(Dongmin read Myungjun's mind and found that he had expected such a thing to happen. Dongmin read Myungjun's mother's mind and found that the only reason she was in the bathroom for so long was so she could cry. Dongmin read Myungjun's father's mind and found the painful acceptance that his son would never belong in society.)

Still, Myungjun was determined to make it a good birthday party. He had forced Dongmin to wear the silly birthday hat and had played as many games as possible. And, finally, after his mother lit all of the candles to his cake, Myungjun bowed his head to make a wish.

“What did you wish for?” Myungjun's father asked cautiously as he cut each of them a slice of cake.

Myungjun grinned widely. “For a bike!” he exclaimed. “I've always wanted a bike!”

He had met Dongmin's gaze and looked away nervously – Dongmin was the only one who knew that Myungjun had wished to lose all of his powers and become normal.

Dongmin had thought it was a silly wish. Powers were important, and he tried to explain as much to Myungjun. “I think it's cool that you can heal plants.”

“It's not _healing_. I'm just reviving them,” Myungjun responded, a blue glow emitting from his hands as he held them over one of his mother's tulips he had accidentally ridden his new bike through.

“Still.” Dongmin shrugged. “It's cool.”

Myungjun bit his lip. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Dongmin blinked. “Magic is useful, though. Without magic, you would probably get in trouble for ruining your mom's garden, and I wouldn't be able to figure out what people are thinking.”

“People hate me for this, though.” Myungjun sighed. “I didn't even do anything wrong, did I?” When Dongmin didn't answer right away, Myungjun turned to him with wide eyes, somehow managing to keep his hands securely over the plant. “Did I hurt their feelings? I hope I didn't.”

Dongmin wrinkled his nose up. “I don't think you did. Did you say anything mean to them?”

“No. I don't think so. I've always tried to be nice to them, all of them.” Myungjun sighed again. “Do you ever feel like this, Dongmin?”

“Like what?”

“Like...like you shouldn't be alive?”

Dongmin was quiet for a few seconds as he contemplated his own existence in life. “No,” he replied resolutely. “Do you?”

“You can read my mind for that.”

Dongmin didn't like reading Myungjun's mind too much, though. He didn't like knowing how sad his best friend was. “I'm happy you're alive, though! I don't think you should think like that, Myungjun.”

“I know. I do, I know, I just...think life would be easier if I didn't have magical powers.” He finished bringing the tulip back to life, and he glanced back to ensure his mom hadn't noticed his mishap in the first place. When he saw no sign of her, he placed his attention back on Dongmin. “Would life be easier for you?”

“Life is already easy for me.” He had friends, unlike Myungjun, and he was able to weed out which ones _truly_ wanted to be his friends, so he didn't even have to worry about people talking behind his back. He thought it was a pretty good trait to have, and he never considered it a curse as Myungjun did.

But Bin changed all of that. Dongmin assumed he could go through life without becoming too friendly with normal people, without becoming too close to normal people. He thought he could steel off his heart and save himself the pain Myungjun had gone through on a daily basis. Bin's arrival, though, ruined all of Dongmin's plans for his future.

Now he understood what Myungjun meant. Bin made him completely understand that he was _cursed_ with these awful powers. It wasn't a trait of his at all; it was simply something that made him miserable in life, and he had never wished to be normal as much as he did right then and there.

“Bin-” he breathed out, but Bin shook his head.

“You said you _read her mind_.”

He hadn't meant to say it. He had simply become far too comfortable in Bin's presence and hadn't thought through his words before he spoke. “Di-Did I?” he asked. It was the wrong thing say, because Bin's eyes narrowed.

“You're a mind-reader, aren't you?”

Dongmin shook his head, desperately trying to pretend that everything would be fine, that it was all just a misunderstanding, but he could tell Bin wasn't buying it. “Bin, no-”

“You're a _magic user_. Aren't you?”

Dongmin wasn't sure how to respond to that without completely lying to Bin. Besides, lying would make it worse; Bin knew, what with his exasperated sigh, and he suddenly stood from his seat, pushing his office chair back and gathering a few things from his desk.

“Bin-”

“I can't believe I trusted you for even a _second_!” Bin snapped angrily.

Dongmin tried again, “Bin, listen-”

“No, _you_ listen!” Bin was keeping his voice low, despite being obviously upset. He held the files he had picked up close to him, and Dongmin noticed his hands trembling ever so slightly. “Imagine considering someone your friend. Imagine considering him to be your best friend, your _only_ friend, and then he lets it slip that he casually lied to you and made you believe that he was normal all along! Imagine that, Detective Lee.”

“I am normal-”

“You're _not_.”

Dongmin knew he wasn't. He just didn't want to hear it from Bin.

“Is that how you solved all those cases?” Bin continued. “Is that what made me look up to you so much? You just read their minds and caught them all from that? Oh, _god_ , I must have looked like such an idiot to you!”

“It's not-”

“You can just read their minds and figure out the truth, and you made me ask questions and work on everything myself, didn't you? _Best detective_ my ass. You're just a liar!”

The words were harsh, and Dongmin just sat there. He allowed himself to take it all, because he knew he deserved it. He was a magic user. He was less of a person than Bin was anyway, and he deserved to be treated as such. He _had_ lied, and he had allowed Bin to grow close to someone he should have been terrified of.

When silence fell for a few seconds, Dongmin painfully immersed himself in his punishment, but it seemed as if Bin couldn't take it. “Aren't you going to say anything?”

“What do you want me to say, Bin?”

“I don't know!” When Dongmin glanced up at him, he noticed the sudden panic on Bin's face. “Can't you deny it? Or fight me back? Spill all of my secrets?”

“Why would I do that?” Even if he could, he would never turn on Bin in such a way. He loved Bin more than anything else in the world. He would accept whatever Bin had to say to him, and he would agree with it.

Again, it was quiet, and, again, Bin was the one to break through the quiet. “I'm going to the hospital. I need...I need to get my face looked at. I need to make sure I didn't get a concussion. God, I hope I got a concussion. I hope-I hope this is all a dream and I just got knocked out, and I'll wake up and you'll be normal.”

Dongmin's throat felt sore as he tried to keep his tears away. He bit at his lip and brought a hand up over his mouth to hide the way his chin was trembling, threatening to release all of the sadness and pain he had been bottling up inside.

Bin noticed the tears welling up in Dongmin's eyes, though. He looked conflicted for a few seconds before he took a step back.

But Dongmin didn't want to see Bin leave. As much as he _knew_ he should allow himself to be punished for even thinking about falling in love with someone, his heart decided it wanted a chance to be happy for once. It wanted a chance to fight for the love he felt he so truly deserved.

“Bin-” he choked out, trying to ignore the hitch in his voice, and with his free hand, he reached for Bin's arm.

Bin flinched away so suddenly that Dongmin's hand grasped at the thin air in confusion. When he looked up at the junior detective, he didn't miss the flash of fear the crossed his face.

(He was taken back to the drive home from Myungjun's old house, to the time when he asked if Bin was scared of magic users, to the time where Bin hesitated and then lied that, no, he wasn't scared of magic users.)

“I need to go to the hospital,” Bin repeated himself from earlier, and Dongmin could hear the regret laced in his tone. “I need – I need to get my face checked out. I'm sor-”

He cut himself off, however, with a shake of his head, and he dumped his files on Dongmin's desk.

This time, Dongmin didn't try to stop him. He didn't want to see that same expression on Bin's face – he didn't want to have it confirmed that Bin was scared of him.

But he knew it was true. As Bin's footsteps faded off, Dongmin realized that Bin was _scared_ of him. The flinching was only part of it, but that _look_ he had shown, that _look_ he had tried to hide was more than enough evidence to prove it.

Bin was scared of him.

Dongmin felt his chest constrict around it's heart, as if squeezing every last ounce of happiness out of it. The tears that had gathered in his eyes finally began to fall, and the little bit of logic he had left to use reminded him that he couldn't cry in public like this.

So with shaking legs, he hurried down to the bathroom, where he closed and locked the door and allowed his tears to fall over the bathroom sink.

His sobs echoed through the empty stall as he wiped at his face with harsh paper towels, creating red streaks down as cheeks that he was certain would be noticeable by the time he finally decided to exit his current safe haven.

It was different from when his mother turned on him. Bin's rejection of who Dongmin truly was struck the deepest parts of his heart. When he was called a monster, when he was given a scar on his arm from his mother's anguish, he picked himself up and moved on with life.

But now, suddenly, it was difficult to do so. One of the paper towels ripped after having been rubbed far too harshly against those damned tears, and Dongmin decided that the measly, shredded paper towel in his hands was a perfect representation of how he currently felt.

Why had it been so difficult to ignore Bin? Why couldn't he have just treated Bin as he did every other employee in the station? Sure, they did work closely together, but he also worked closely with the chief, and he had known other officers for far longer. And, sure, Bin was charming and kind, but so were other men that Dongmin had been in contact with before.

When his hands finally stopped trembling enough to scoop up water and wet his face with it, he wondered if it was because Bin had really seemed to accept him. Dongmin's heart had pretended all along that if Bin had known who he was, Bin wouldn't mind. With his own mother, Dongmin's heart refused to forgo logic – with Bin, however, he played pretend.

He shouldn't have ever allowed Bin's antics to make him laugh, and he shouldn't have ever allowed Bin's good looks to make him swoon. When they had gone to visit Myungjun's mother, he should have walked to the motel, and when Bin invited him over to his place, he should have continued to refuse. But his heart had wanted it all for the sake of his pretend fantasy that Bin would one day love him, regardless of his magical powers.

And now he was finally forced to accept the fact that he had been tossed aside by the one man he had grown to truly love with his entire being.

He couldn't do this to himself, though. He had to allow logic to take over his emotions. He had to force his heart into submission, remind it that he could never again fall in love, and then move on with his life. He would transfer Bin out of the department the moment he could, then try and wipe everything from his memory.

Someone was knocking on the door, and Dongmin looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and watery, and his face was streaked red from where he had rubbed at his cheeks. He didn't know how he could pass this off as anything other than a complete break-down.

Still, he wiped his eyes once again, then ducked his head as he opened the door.

The chief of police stood there in confusion. “Dongmin?”

“Hello.” Dongmin's voice cracked.

The chief was quiet for a few seconds, and Dongmin tried to step past him. “Excuse me,” he murmured. “I have to work on this case.”

“Go home, Dongmin.”

Dongmin finally glanced up at him to see the worry written all over the older man's face. He couldn't blame the chief, not when he knew he looked like death.

“Bin's already gone to the hospital. We can work on it more tomorrow – we won't accomplish anything if my best detective works alone when he's had no sleep at all, will we?”

Dongmin wet his lips with his tongue as he tried to formulate a response. The chief stopped him before he could say anything. “Come back tomorrow morning and we can work it out.”

Dongmin nodded his head, but quickly blurted out, “I need transfer papers for Bin.”

“What?”

“I need – I mean, I need to transfer Bin to a new department.”

The chief sounded shocked. “Why, though? You two work brilliantly together! Let's at least wait until-”

“Please.”

Perhaps it was the defeat in Dongmin's voice that made the chief hesitate with his next words. “You don't want him to help finish the case with you?”

“He won't come back from the hospital,” Dongmin responded quietly. “He won't work with me.”

For some reason, the chief didn't ask why. Dongmin longed to read his mind, but he was exhausted and running on high emotions and a lack of sleep. He _couldn't_ use his mind-reading ability right then unless he wanted to collapse.

He didn't have to read the chief's mind, though, to see the cogs turning in his head. “Did you two fight?”

Dongmin didn't answer, so the chief continued. “Over what? Over the case, or...?”

“It...wasn't a fight. I just think he would work better elsewhere.”

Finally, _finally_ , the chief conceded with a nod and a heavy sigh. “I think you should go after him, Dongmin, but I understand you don't want to. Come on, I'll get the papers for you. I'll sign them before you take them home. Just fill them out, and when you bring them back tomorrow, I'll work on transferring him somewhere else.”

Dongmin knew he should be filled with an immense amount of gratitude, but all that came to him was pain, regret, guilt – everything bad, when it should have given him nothing but relief.

_Maybe_ , his heart told him, sending Bin away was a bad plan.

But his heart was broken, anyway, so what did it know? He would save himself a separate heartache and request that he received no more junior partners. He worked better alone. He lived better alone.

And he would be alone for the rest of his life.

The thought wouldn't leave him, even as he made his way home and collapsed on his couch. He clutched at the transfer sheets in his hand, eyes trying to focus on all of the words and boxes to fill. They laughed at him; he was reminded of the twenty or so party hats at Myungjun's birthday, mocking his best friend for being alone.

He had never truly experienced that, but as he slowly began to fill out the documents and forms, he realized he was being mocked. The papers reminded him that no one would ever _truly_ love him. His mother had tossed him out and Bin was leaving him.

His life wasn't supposed to have ended up this way. He was supposed to be a doctor with a happy relationship at this point. He was supposed to be living in a large house with a few children, possibly, and the love of his life sleeping beside him every night. He was supposed to be _loved_ and he would freely love back.

With a heavy heart, a _shattered_ heart, he realized that he suddenly longed to go back to his childhood, to his idealistic dreams. He longed to experience friendship and happiness once again.

He signed off on Bin's departure form sometime in the late evening, after having stared at the last page for a while. With the last line of his name, he put his pen down and looked over the areas he had filled out, knowing that once tomorrow came, Bin would be completely gone from his life.

He blinked rapidly suddenly, held back a sob in his throat, and his signature was given three tear drops before he finally shoved the papers off his lap and buried his face into the armrest of his couch.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what will happen next? will bin be transferred? will they find the killer? you guys know it ends happy tho bc witchcraft gave it away, they end up together, we just have to trudge through a bit of sad. and the suck. sorry, i suck at this sometimes.
> 
> hit me up with the dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) to help me sue someone, i havent decided who i will sue yet (give me suggestions).


	14. fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin frowned at his reflection in the mirror. “Why couldn't you have been normal?” he asked the tired, defeated man staring back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it gets happier in this chapter, and then -

Dongmin supposed that spending the entire night on his couch was probably a bad idea. He was completely and utterly sore, and he had a painful crick in his neck. To make matters worse, when he went to the bathroom in order to tidy himself up, he realized just how puffy his face was and how red his eyes still were.

“Great,” he mumbled, and he tried to rinse off last night's tears.

Falling asleep had been difficult, to say the least, and he probably didn't get nearly as much sleep as he needed. Most of the night had been spent tossing and turning, remembering Bin's sudden movement away from his grasp, remembering the panic in Bin's eyes as he begged Dongmin to be _normal_.

Dongmin frowned at his reflection in the mirror. “Why _couldn't_ you have been normal?” he asked the tired, defeated man staring back at him. “And even if you could never have been normal, why did you fall in love with Bin?” The reflection wasn't answering him, and Dongmin felt his throat burn. He had to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Why are you making me go through this?” he whispered.

There was no response from anyone, and he ducked his head into his chest, struggling to hold back his tears. He couldn't cry again. He needed to get to work and close the case, and then...

And then what? What was he supposed to do after that? Continue working, he assumed, but the thought of continuing forth in such a lonely, pathetic existence was too much for him.

But then what was he going to do?

“No time to think about that,” he murmured, and then splashed some water on his face. For now, at least, he was going to take life day by day. If he closed the case today, he would figure out what to do tomorrow. His top priority _today_ , however, was clearing the names of Hyejeong and Officer Choi.

Hopefully he would have an idea for what to do tomorrow.

He was determined to not even think about Bin, to focus solely on his work, but when he settled his briefcase in the passenger seat, he couldn't forget Bin's silly exclamations of, “Shotgun!” It almost made him smile, too, remembering such a thing, but then his brain made certain he was fully aware that the only time he would ever hear Bin's voice again was in his memory.

So, with a frown tugging at his lips, he entered the police station and made a straight beeline to the chief's office. Without a word of greeting, he pulled out the transfer papers and placed them in front of the chief.

“Good morning to you, too, Detective Lee,” the chief mumbled as he glanced up at the younger man. “You didn't sleep well, did you?”

Dongmin shook his head. He didn't trust his voice to respond right then.

“Ah, well.” The chief shrugged and flipped through the documents. “Are you sure you want to transfer Bin?”

Dongmin nodded his head.

“I don't think he'd like that very much.” The chief glanced up at Dongmin. “He really seems to like you.”

Dongmin had to close his eyes and take another deep breath. He could answer this time without his voice breaking, he hoped. “Not after – he doesn't. Not anymore.”

“I bet he still does.”

“Please just sign the papers,” Dongmin requested.

The chief sighed and grabbed a pen nearby. “Fine. I'll read through them first and ensure that it's all filled out correctly. Are you continuing your investigation today?”

“Yes. Hyejeong isn't the witch like we thought she was. I think – Seojin, the girl Hyejeong had as hostage, might have something to do with this, though.” It was far easier to discuss work than it was to remember Bin. “I'm going to pay her a visit and ask a few questions.”

“Do you think she might be a witch?”

“Possibly.”

The chief gave a small _tsk_ with his tongue, then gestured outside his office. “Take Officer Hong with you.”

“That isn't necessary-”

“If she's a witch and she's going around controlling people, it's _very_ much necessary,” the chief responded. “Officer Hong has weapons and is trained for quick response. You are not, and I don't need my best detective dead.”

If Dongmin hadn't been so intent on clearing up this case for the well-being of the ones affected, he would have continued to deny needing any involvement from other police officers. However, for now he decided to accept with a bow of his head. “I'll go inform him and we'll head out,” he mumbled.

The chief nodded and set the papers aside. “Please be careful, Dongmin. And if you change your mind about the papers-”

“I won't.”

“But _if you do_ -”

“Chief, just sign them and send them out.”

The chief wrinkled his nose and pushed the papers even farther away from him. “I liked Bin.”

Dongmin chose not to respond to that. He just stated, “I'll be careful, and I'll close the case today,” before leaving the office and informing Officer Hong of the plan.

“Is your partner not coming with us?” Officer Hong asked when they headed outside.

“No. He can't make it today. He's still at the hospital.” He decided that Bin hadn't worked there long enough for Dongmin to make a big deal out of his departure. Officer Hong barely knew him, anyway.

“Are you sure he's at the hospital.”

Dongmin truly _wasn't_ sure, but he responded, “Yes.”

“Are you _sure_?”

Dongmin sighed in frustration and ran a hand across his face. “Why, Officer Hong?”

“Because he's standing in front of your car, if you'd look up for once.”

And Dongmin did look up.

Bin's bruises were worse than they had been yesterday. They were an ugly mix of yellow and purple, parading across his skin as tribute of his fight. His eye, as well, was still swollen, and he had a few bandages at various wounds, including a large bandage right at his split lip.

And through the good eye, Dongmin saw regret and longing.

They both stared at each other, probably for a good half minute, and then Officer Hong cleared his throat. “I just, um, I just remembered something, uh, right inside – my keys, oh, god, silly me, I left them at my desk.” Officer Hong stuffed his keys in his pocket. “I'd better go grab them. Just...come in and get me when we're ready to go, Detective Lee.”

Dongmin didn't spare him a second glance, and Bin didn't look away as Officer Hong scurried back inside. They continued to stare at each other, instead. Dongmin's lips felt dry and his hands were clenched in fists by his sides.

“You look like shit,” Bin said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“So do you,” Dongmin whispered. His voice was hoarse and ready to break and waver at any minute.

Bin seemed to recognize this, and he finally broke eye contact.

“I thought – I thought you went to the hospital.”

“I did,” Bin murmured. “The nurse tried to be gentle with my face, but you were more gentle.”

Dongmin couldn't face Bin like this, not when his eyes were tearing up. “I need to-”

“Please don't leave.”

The three words made Dongmin freeze, and he stared at Bin's forlorn expression.

“Don't leave,” Bin repeated softly. “I know...I know I left yesterday. And you begged me – you didn't want me to leave. You tried to reach out to me, and I turned my back on you. And I never should've-”

“You're scared of me,” Dongmin choked out.

Bin shook his head desperately. “Detective Lee, I'm not. I thought I was, but...it doesn't matter what powers you have. It doesn't matter. I was so _stupid_ , Detective Lee, I was an idiot. I had a while at the hospital to think it through, and _god_ , I hate myself for what I did. I came back last night but your car was gone. I made you spend the entire night thinking I was scared of you, didn't I?”

Dongmin hesitated before slowly nodding, and Bin looked more guilty than he had before.

“It's not your fault. Nothing was ever your fault. You didn't want to tell me because you were afraid of my reaction, and I just proved you right. I...I just brushed you aside.”

Dongmin wondered if Bin was about to cry. He sure sounded like it.

“But, Detective Lee, I'm not scared of you. I'm not. I understand why you never told me. I thought _so much_ over it, and if I was a mind reader and – I mean, you mentioned a few things about Myungjun's life, about that neighbor of his who got beaten _just_ for hanging around Myungjun – and if I was you, I wouldn't tell, either.”

Dongmin could hardly dare to breathe. He stared at Bin who sniffed suddenly and rubbed at his nose.

“I don't deserve – I don't deserve you to forgive me, but I'm sorry, Dongmin.”

The use of his name caught Dongmin's poor, shattered heart off-guard, and he felt it beat wildly again, trying frantically to piece itself back together and allow love to flourish once more.

But Dongmin didn't know if _he_ deserved love. He was a magic user; Bin was normal. He couldn't ruin Bin's life by allowing himself to give into the warmth.

“If I were you,” he whispered, “I wouldn't want to be friends with a magic user.”

Bin stepped forward and shook his head. “Don't say that.”

“You're normal, Bin. You don't deserve-”

“I don't deserve _you_ ,” Bin finished the sentence. “I don't deserve someone as wonderful and smart and kind as _you_. I don't deserve you as my friend, because you're far above me.”

“I'm a magic user,” Dongmin responded.

Bin took another step forward. “And I don't care.”

The younger man held out a hand when he was close enough to do so. Dongmin noticed his fingers trembling and worried that Bin might still be scared. But when he met Bin's gaze, he noticed the tears gathering in them, and his own eyes widened.

“I'm sorry,” Bin choked out. “I know you don't deserve me, so _please_ , touch me one last time and I'll go. I'll leave. You can find a partner who will respect you.”

Dongmin didn't want a partner who would respect him. Dongmin wanted Bin, who got drunk and said stupid things and dressed up like Sherlock Holmes for important cases and hugged him tightly in his sleep.

And so Dongmin reached out his own hand and grasped onto Bin's.

Bin didn't pull back or flinch or show any ounce of fear.

“Don't leave,” Dongmin demanded, and he tightened his grip on Bin's hand. “I-I need a junior detective. And I need a friend.”

Bin blinked rapidly and a tear raced down his bruised and beaten face. “You mean it?”

Dongmin nodded his head, unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips. “I need _you_ , Bin. I'm sorry for lying-”

“You didn't lie, and you have nothing to be sorry for. _I'm_ sorry, Dongmin, I'm so sorry – I know you won't forgive what I said-”

“I do forgive you.”

Bin's eyes lit up with hope and happiness. “Really?”

“I would have reacted the same way if someone suddenly let it spill that they were a magic user all along,” Dongmin said.

“But I _shouldn't_ have reacted that way. I know you're not bad or scary or – I mean, mind reading is actually kind of cool.” Bin was smiling now, and his thumb rubbed at Dongmin's skin where they held hands. “I'm sorry, again, Detective Lee. I won't tell anyone and I'll make up for what I said to you somehow.”

“You already did make up for it,” Dongmin responded. “More than made up for it. I'm-”

“Detective Lee!” a voice called out behind him, and Dongmin turned to see the chief standing at the front doors, Officer Hong beside him looking very nervous. “Officer Hong here tells me that you're not continuing the case because Bin is back. Is this true?”

His tone was light and his expression cheerful, and Dongmin rolled his eyes, releasing Bin's hand and putting his attention on the chief. “We're going!” he answered, and gestured for Officer Hong to follow him. Before he completely turned away, however, he added, “Please tear up the papers, Chief.”

“You don't have to tell me twice. I already did.” The chief winked, then slapped Officer Hong's back. “Tell them not to make out until they arrive back-”

“ _Chief_!” Dongmin snapped, and his only answer was bright laughter before the chief escaped back into the station. Dongmin felt his face redden, and when he looked back at Bin, he could only tell that his partner had a similar blush from the bright pink color on the tips of his ears. “We'll drive together, since I don't want you driving in your condition,” Dongmin muttered. “Officer Hong, can you drive in your car?”

“I was planning on it,” Officer Hong mumbled, still looking quite nervous to have caught such a heartwarming scene. “I'll meet you there, Detectives?”

Dongmin nodded his head, and after Officer Hong had gotten in his own vehicle, Bin nudged Dongmin's side.

“So...I get shotgun?”

Dongmin couldn't help the laughter that escaped his mouth, and he realized that his heart was repairing itself as quickly as it had become shattered, bouncing with the excitement of Bin actually returning to him. It was an amazing feeling, something that had never happened to him before, and he wasn't quite sure if he could ever return the stoic expression back to his face.

“You get shotgun,” he replied, and Bin mirrored his grin just as widely.

(And then Bin winced afterwards, and Dongmin cooed over him, scolding, “Don't smile so big just yet, your face still needs to heal.”)

It was a pity that they had to work on a case, because Dongmin _longed_ to just sit down and have a lengthy conversation with Bin about everything and anything. As it was, he could only supply snippets of information, and most of it _was_ related to the case.

“I _knew_ Seojin was a witch!” Bin exclaimed when Dongmin explained everything to him.

“How on earth did you know that?”

“Well, I knew when I was in the hospital bed, because if Hyejeong wasn't, then it was either Officer Choi or Seojin. Officer Choi clearly had no clue what he did, no one can lie like _that_ , and I realized that when Seojin ran off, both Hyejeong and Officer Choi stopped and looked very confused.” Bin was pressing a finger gently over his bandages, ensuring they wouldn't come lose. “So we're confronting a witch?”

“That's why Officer Hong is with us,” Dongmin said. “He has a gun, so in case she _does_ try anything, he'll shoot her. But first thing I need to do is read her mind.”

Bin glanced over at Dongmin. “What's it like when you read minds? Do you get images or-?”

“I hardly get images, unless I concentrate very hard,” came Dongmin's response. “Typically it's little bits and pieces of thoughts, for light concentration on my part. The more I use my powers, the more information I'm given.”

Bin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “What am I thinking?”

“Hm?”

“Tell me what _I'm_ thinking.”

“Actually...” Dongmin swallowed nervously. “I can't...I can't read your mind.”

“What?”

“I'm blocked from it. It's really curious, honestly, I've never experienced such a thing before.” Dongmin met Bin's gaze while sitting at a stop light. “Something prevents me from reading _your_ mind, and I haven't figured out what. You're not a magic user, are you?”

“No. I don't think so, at least. I've never done magic before.”

Dongmin hummed lightly in response. “Weird, then,” he mumbled.

The rest of the trip consisted of Bin trying to come up with different magic he _could_ have, anything from his own mind-reading abilities (“Except, if I had that, I would have known you were a magic user, so cancel that idea out,”) to something Bin coined as _shield_ powers (“You just made that up,” Dongmin complained, and Bin stuck out his tongue). All in all, by the time they caught up with Officer Hong at Seojin's apartment, Dongmin was in a far better mood than he had been in weeks.

If only they didn't have to deal with a witch, today would be perfect.

“Officer Hong, _only_ shoot if you detect a threat. If she admits to being a witch but doesn't do anything, please don't shoot. We can take her in and hand her over to the government in that case.”

Officer Hong agreed to Dongmin's request, and Bin was the first one to knock on the door.

Surprisingly, Seojin answered rather quickly, and she didn't seem caught off guard to find two detectives and a special forces officer standing at her front door.

“Hello, Seojin,” Bin greeted. “I'm Junior Detective Moon Bin, and Detective Lee and I just need to ask you a few questions about that kidnapping you were a part of.”

Dongmin took his chance to gather his magic and concentrate it all on the girl. Unfortunately, it seemed she was prepared for Dongmin's ability; she put up a wall, shielding her thoughts. Dongmin found it was very much _unlike_ Bin's shield; he could tell Seojin was using strong magic in order to ward him off, whereas Bin's mind was simply blank.

“May we come in?” Bin asked suddenly when he seemed to realize Dongmin's magical struggle.

The girl wasn't struggling nearly as much. She simply nodded her head and moved aside to allow the three men to walk in.

As Dongmin worked on increasing his own powers, the girl turned hers to Bin, narrowing her eyes as he questioned the lack of parental supervision in her apartment. She didn't respond, and Dongmin detected a sudden kink in her own magical shield.

“Excuse me, Seojin?” Bin repeated himself, “Where are your parents?”

Her gaze turned away from Bin, and Dongmin was finally able to break through – he found confusion, mostly directed at Bin, and a sudden fear over someone she was unable to control.

But then he realized she had turned her attention to Officer Hong, and it took two seconds for Dongmin to follow her gaze and realize what was happening.

Officer Hong pulled his gun out of its holster and aimed it on the unsuspecting junior detective.

Panic filled Dongmin's very being; he just managed to have Bin accept him, and he would be _damned_ if Bin was murdered in front of his very eyes.

He didn't say a word; he simply moved as quickly as he could, shoving Bin out of the way and stumbling forward.

He heard the gunshot and he felt a piercing pain enter his body, sharper and more excruciating than anything he had felt before.

And, as he took a second to comprehend the fact that he had just been shot, his eyes searched desperately for the one person he truly cared for.

“Bin-” he gasped out, and Bin stared back at him in horror.

 _At least,_ Dongmin thought as he lurched forward and fell to his knees, _Bin is okay._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O
> 
> bin deserves forgiveness, too, he was a twit but he's truly sorry for it. also when will we get cute binu??? bc obviously dongmin is fine. but no cute binu until chapter 16 lol.  
> I GOT REALLY CUTE FANART! [summer soda](http://www.summer-soda.tumblr.com/post/159800892304/i-havent-been-able-to-draw-any-art-for-vonseal) drew this adorably cute picture for me, and i only cried at it a little bit. pls go tell her how amazing of an artist she is (and check out her other art, its all so amazing)!
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) because i need to sue myself.


	15. fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm fine, Bin.” Dongmin was shaky on his legs. His body pleaded with him to just give up, to allow it some rest, to stop using his magical abilities when he could barely even hold himself up, but Dongmin was determined to bring things to light once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mystery is wrapped up here, then, i think. it should all be wrapped up, at least, unless i forgot something which there is a very high possibility of me having done.

Dongmin didn't get hurt too often as a child.

His mother ensured that much for him, at least, even if it did involve forbidding him to play with other children his age. So while Myungjun would race around on his bike and come home with scrapes and bruises all over him, Dongmin remained clean and free from any such wounds.

However, hanging around Myungjun _did_ require breaking the rules every so often. Myungjun wasn't used to sitting still and keeping himself all in one piece.

“I've never ridden a bike before,” Dongmin muttered as Myungjun begged for him to try it out.

“Well, there's a first time for everything!” Myungjun had responded cheerfully, and he gave the bike seat a pat. “Come on! You'll be fine, all you do is move the pedals with your feet.”

But Dongmin shook his head. “My mother, um, my mother doesn't like it when I do this sort of thing.”

“Your mom doesn't like it when you ride bikes?”

“Well, she never specified _bikes_ , but she's worried I might get hurt if I do something dangerous.”

“This isn't dangerous. It's a _bike_.”

But Dongmin just cleared his throat and took a step back. “I don't – I don't feel very comfortable doing it,” he responded with a mumble.

Myungjun stared at him for a few seconds before suddenly grinning widely. “How about we ride it together?”

“What?”

“Yeah, you can ride behind me and hold on, and I'll go super slow for you.” Myungjun was already climbing in his seat and holding out his helmet for Dongmin to take. “And the more we ride it together, the more you might become comfortable with it, and then you can ride it all by yourself soon!”

Dongmin was terrified of the prospect of actually climbing on that bike with Myungjun and riding it. It _was_ dangerous, despite what his best friend might say, and if his mother ever found out, he couldn't even imagine how furious she would be. Still, Dongmin found this strange desire to experience the rush and adrenaline that Myungjun had constantly spoke of from his bike, and with a deep breath, he nodded his head. Myungjun's smile grew even wider, and Dongmin said, “As long as we never tell my mom.”

“Right. We won't tell your mom.”

Dongmin trusted Myungjun to keep it a secret; after all, he _was_ still the only person in the entire world who knew Dongmin could read minds. Myungjun might have been talkative and a little much to handle sometimes, but he was loyal, at the very least, and he kept promises.

So when he promised, “We'll be completely fine,” Dongmin believed him and, therefore, was a little shocked when Myungjun lost control of the bike and sent them both tumbling down the pathway.

Dongmin had decided that scraping up his elbow enough to make blood drip down his arm was _probably_ one of the worst wounds that anyone could ever receive.

(Myungjun had quickly taken him inside, where he bandaged the scratch with about five superhero-inspired Bandaids, which Dongmin didn't even know existed, and then when Dongmin started crying, Myungjun had shushed him with ice cream and a can of soda and put in a movie for them to watch together.)

But now, as he brought a hand up to his bullet wound and saw blood seep through his fingers, he realized that his young self was a complete and utter idiot. A scraped elbow was _nothing_ in comparison to the excruciating pain of a gunshot.

At least Bin was okay, and at least the bullet had pierced through his shoulder. As far as he was aware, it hadn't hit anything major; still, that did little to alleviate the panic that gripped his body.

The panic worsened when he heard Bin rush at Officer Hong, and he twisted himself around slightly in an effort to keep his eyes on his partner. “Bin-!” he choked out when Officer Hong aimed his gun right at the younger male, but Bin was faster. Bin punched the policeman harshly in the face, and when Officer Hong stumbled, Bin reached for the weapon.

He wondered how much longer Seojin's powers could hold on for. He saw Officer Hong falter, and the grip on his gun loosened. Bin took the chance and tore it out of the policeman's grasp, then punched him once again in the face.

Finally, it seemed, Seojin couldn't make Officer Hong fight any longer. He collapsed, and the witch breathed out deeply in exhaustion.

Bin spun around and trained the weapon on Seojin, narrowing his eyes and carefully stepping forward.

“Dongmin?” he called, but he didn't take his eyes off of the girl in front of him. “Dongmin, are you alright?”

Dongmin shakily drew his hand back to find it covered completely in blood, still escaping through the bullet hole. Still, at least he _could_ move his hand, and he _was_ still able to sit situated on his knees, so he nodded his head. “Yes,” he responded, then placed the hand back over the wound and looked up at Seojin.

She was clearly trying to regenerate her powers, if her closed eyes were any proof of that, and Dongmin, despite his own exhaustion, took the chance to dive into her mind. Her thoughts were no longer protected by any such shield and he was able to figure things out rather quickly.

“You liked Yongjin,” he murmured suddenly.

The girl opened her eyes and looked over at Dongmin, ignoring the gun Bin had pointed at her. “What?”

“You were in love with Yongjin.” With his free hand, Dongmin tried to push himself up from the ground.

Bin glanced at him. “Dongmin, please don't move until we-”

“I'm fine, Bin.” Dongmin was shaky on his legs. His body pleaded with him to just give up, to allow it some rest, to stop using his magical abilities when he could barely even hold himself up, but Dongmin was determined to bring things to light once and for all.

Dongmin stood next to Bin, and he noticed Bin's eyes grow wide at the sight of so much blood. “Dongmin-” he started again, and Dongmin both hated and adored the concerned tone.

“Bin, let me do this.” He cleared his throat, took a few deep breaths, and continued, “Yongjin was nice and kind to you, wasn't he? You really thought he would actually grow to love _you_ someday, just as you loved him.”

Seojin averted her gaze, and Dongmin found a terrible weight she had been carrying, the fear of being found out coupled with the knowledge that she had caused the deaths of two people close to her. “You hated it when he started dating Hyejeong, though, and you decided you'd finally use your powers. You'd controlled animals beforehand as practice, and when you were finally able to make the animals do your bidding for an extended period of time, you did the same to Yongjin.”

She was regenerating her powers quickly, and Dongmin knew he didn't have much time.

“Let me arrest her,” Bin whispered, but Dongmin shook his head.

“Call in the chief and other policeman,” he responded. “You can put the gun down for now – she won't do anything. We can't take risk putting her in a car with us at the moment, however, not when she's this powerful.”

Bin hesitated for a few seconds before transferring the gun over to just one of his hands. With the other, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the chief's number. His eyes refused to break their careful watch of Seojin's every move.

As he spoke quietly to the chief, Dongmin continued figuring things out and gaining closure on many mysterious aspects of the case. “Yongjin came when you called him. You didn't use _your_ phone, just in case the police would track it, but you used a phone at a convenience store. You claimed that you needed notes, didn't you? And Yongjin came out, because he was too nice to reject you. And then you took over his mind and made him follow you.”

Bin was off the phone then, and he was back to holding his gun with two hands, listening carefully to Dongmin speak.

“You had potions available for Yongjin to take, didn't you? We never did an autopsy on his body because the circumstances of his death were similar to that of a suicide and the other policemen accepted it as such, but I'm certain if we did the autopsy, we'd find _some_ sort of witch's brew that would allow Yongjin to fall into a deep sleep. You regenerated your powers as he slept, so when he woke up again, you would control his mind. But you overestimated your own powers.”

Seojin bit her lip and, once again, Dongmin found the same rush of despair take her over.

“He started fighting back against you, and he ran. You had to follow, and when you saw he had made it home, you panicked. From a distance, you made a knife appear in his hands and forced him to commit _suicide_ , didn't you?”

“That's why he was struggling against it,” Bin added on, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the witch. “Because he was still fighting you and he didn't want to die. Isn't that right, Detective Lee?”

Dongmin nodded his head, but when he realized Bin wasn't looking in his direction, he murmured, “That's true. You killed the boy you loved in fear of being discovered as a witch.”

Seojin sniffed and Dongmin was shocked to catch tears in her gaze. “Y-You don't know what it's like!” she exclaimed.

“He's a mind-reader,” Bin snapped. “Of course he knows-”

“He doesn't know what it's like to live in fear of being found out of being a _witch_! I had to kill him! If he told on me, if Yongjin told then they would kill me! You know what they _do_ to witches?”

Dongmin scoffed and held out his bloodied hand. “Maybe you should have thought that through before you made Officer Hong shoot me,” he responded. “Or before you controlled Yongjin in the first place. Most magic users live in hiding.”

“Why should we?” Seojin wiped some tears off her cheeks and returned the glower. “Why should we live in hiding? We're not _cursed_. We were given these powers for a reason! Why shouldn't we use them?”

“And Bin was given that gun for a reason, according to your logic, so why shouldn't he use it right now?” Dongmin retorted.

“Is that permission to shoot this bitch?” Bin whispered.

Dongmin didn't feel the need to respond to that. He simply grasped at his wound again with a wince, then continued his expedition into the witch's mind. “Sohyun started suspecting you, though, after Yongjin's death. You two had been friends before, hadn't you? She always knew you were slightly different, but she never expected you were a witch. So she confronted you. And, once again, you panicked, because she was onto you, so you took over _her_ mind. Except you didn't make the same mistake – you didn't keep her around. You took her somewhere you thought no one would be, and you made her hang herself. Which,” he added to Bin, “explained the rope burns on the poor girl's hands. She had been struggling just like Yongjin trying to get out of that noose, but she wasn't able to.”

Bin nodded his head. “Permission to shoot?” he questioned again.

“Bin, just wait for the chief.” Dongmin noticed the girl was struggling to gain her powers back, and he _prayed_ the chief was going to hurry. While he had her mind open, though, he could at least watch out for any potential moves she might do. “And then you blamed Hyejeong for it all. You killed two people, and you put the blame on Hyejeong.”

“If she hadn't been dating Yongjin, none of this would have happened!” Seojin bitterly snapped. “It's all _her_ fault!”

“It isn't, though, not when _you_ were the reason two people died terrible, violent deaths,” Dongmin responded. “You took over Hyejeong's mind after coercing her down the same way you did with Yongjin, and you really _were_ going to kill her if you hadn't been caught. And during that ensuing battle, you couldn't keep control of _both_ Officer Choi and Hyejeong. Your powers had weakened, and so you did the only thing you could think of, and you ran away. That's why both Hyejeong and Officer Choi came back to their normal selves the second you skirted the corner, because they were no longer being controlled by you.”

Seojin's jaw was clenched and she clapped her hands together. “Good _job_ , _Detective Lee_ ,” she spat out. “What a _great_ detective you are, reading peoples' minds – how come it's perfectly fine for _you_ to embrace your powers, but I have to keep them hidden!? Why _can't_ I showcase what I have been gifted with?”

“He's not killing people, you psycho!” Bin stepped forward suddenly, the gun still held out in front of him. “You'd better be happy, too, that he's making me wait for the chief. The government will definitely take care of your crazy ass.”

Seojin took a deep breath and shook her head. “I don't think so. They're not taking me.”

“The chief is on his way,” Bin answered. “Along with reinforcements. Face it, Seojin, you can't get out of this one.”

Bin's words might not have been so true, however. Dongmin realized she was willing to do _anything_ to get out of the government's grasp. While he didn't blame her at all for the fear she had welled up inside of her, he also realized the fact that she was a murderer, and perhaps it was better for witches to be disposed of properly. Seojin was far too dangerous to keep alive, and if she justified her own killings in such a manner, Dongmin wouldn't pity her for a second more.

“You guys _aren't taking me_!” Seojin screamed, and Dongmin recognized the fact that her powers were strong enough now for a few more spells. He wasn't kicked from her mind, however, as a shield would have been too much effort, so he was able to read her next move, which involved tossing him aside.

And she did. Dongmin only had a short distance to fly backwards before hitting the wall and falling to the ground with a large cry of pain as the wound on his shoulder made contact with the floor. That was even worse than the initial gunshot, he figured, and he grabbed at his wound with trembling, red-stained fingers.

The moment he looked up was the moment Bin fired his weapon, and Dongmin flinched from the loud sound. Seojin cried out and stumbled backwards, but when Dongmin was able to focus his eyes properly, he realized the bullet had only grazed her. If anything, it frightened her all the more that Bin was able and quite willing to shoot her, and she held out her hands in his direction.

“Bin!” Dongmin called, “Bin, she's going to throw you like she did with me!”

He saw the magic come out, caught the glimpse of a release from her mind, but Bin stood there with his gun still aimed at the girl, completely unaffected.

Both Dongmin and Seojin seemed shocked.

“What the-?” Dongmin murmured to himself, and the witch tried her spell again, with much more effort this time. Still, Bin stood there, despite how hard Seojin was trying to make it work.

“Stop it,” Bin snapped, and he stepped forward. “You are under arrest-”

She tried a different spell this time. Bin didn't move, save to take one extra step forward.

“Why isn't it working?” she screeched fearfully, stumbling backwards. One of her hands came down to hold at her own wound, just a little bit of blood rolling down her arm. Bin had succeeded in threatening her, in any case, but he also succeeded in confusing Dongmin all the more.

His own magic didn't work on Bin, and even a powerful witch couldn't do a thing.

Dongmin picked through his mind, remembering everything had had ever read about magic users as a child, trying to recall if there was anything he might have missed. He didn't appear to _be_ a magic user, because there was no magic user alive who had the ability to block everything else – however, there _was_ an anti-magic user, and Dongmin suddenly realized that Bin was immune.

He had read it over before, in an older book that the librarian had warned him, “might not be entirely accurate.” There was only a short section on people immune to magic. They couldn't be controlled, couldn't have their minds read, couldn't be risen from the grave – no magic, whatsoever, would affect someone who had complete immunity.

But it was just a myth, Dongmin had assumed at the time, because magic was far too powerful to be warded off. Besides that, there were no examples of anyone who had ever been immune to magic before. While the author of the book had assured he met one once who preferred to remain anonymous, due to the amount of testing that subjects of immunity might have been forced to undergo, Dongmin had chalked it up to crazy nonsense. That same book also had information on mind-readers who could control minds, despite Dongmin knowing _that_ was absolutely false, and necromancers who could bring _themselves_ back from the grave. (Myungjun had informed him that it was “probably a load of bullshit, no necromancer has ever come back from the dead.”) Some crackpot author had developed the idea, Dongmin thought, and he had disregarded that information.

But seeing Bin do absolutely nothing and still manage to have some sort of anti-magic shield surrounding him made Dongmin believe that there was probably more information that was truthful in the book than he had originally thought.

And then excitement coursed through him. Bin couldn't be hurt by witches and spells! Bin would never have to worry about any magic users hurting him or killing him, because he was totally immune. There was relief there, too, to see Seojin unable to control the younger man, and Dongmin was ready to exclaim it out to his best friend that Seojin couldn't do a _thing_ to him.

The moment he opened his mouth, however, he felt his throat close up around him. His lungs couldn't get in any sort of breath, and he grabbed at his own neck with wide eyes. He noticed Seojin's hands outstretched in front of her again, aimed at _him_ this time, and he noticed the panic in Bin's expression.

“Let go of him!” Bin cried out when he realized what was going on. “Stop choking him!”

If anything, her powers strengthened, and Dongmin had never felt so scared in his life as he tried gasping out to no avail.

Bin was moving toward the witch, but she snapped, “Move again, and I snap his neck. I'm in a _great_ position to do so.”

Dongmin felt himself getting dizzy, but he _did_ notice Bin freeze in place, and before the world started getting too blurry, he also noticed Bin glance back at him with apprehension and alarm.

“I'll shoot you,” he heard Bin stammer out to Seojin.

“You won't,” the witch responded, “because you've never shot a gun in your life before today and you're too scared that you'll miss.”

And she was probably right, because it fell silent then, and Dongmin kept his gaze, as blurry and spotty as it was becoming, trained solely on Bin. He could no longer keep himself in a sitting position, though, and he fell sideways, his head hitting the floor painfully as he choked and struggled to get even _one_ breath of air in his lungs.

And Bin still hesitated with his weapon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but we all know it turns out fine, lol, dont you guys worry. and like i promised before, chapter 16 is cute, so please look forward to the cute! i'm hopeful to have it out tomorrow at some point!
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) bc i like shoes.


	16. sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the gunshot wound and the obvious suffocation he had to endure, he decided that this day was probably one of the best days of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd cue the cute binu <3 you guys can stop suing me now i think! we're in the clear

Dongmin couldn't breathe.

It was a terrifying thing, really, to be suffocating with no remedy in sight. It was even worse for Dongmin when he realized he could hardly see anything, and his bloodied hand clawed at his throat as he tried to find _some_ sort of relief from the torture that had overtaken his lungs.

And, honestly, Bin was his only chance for survival at this point.

Not that Dongmin found anything wrong with relying on Bin, but the longer time stretched on, the more Dongmin's faith began to waver. He didn't know if Bin was a good shot or not, but there was only one thing the younger man could do, and that involved taking a life. It also involved aiming perfectly and hitting a vital spot; an instant kill, basically, and Dongmin wasn't sure if Bin could actually do it.

He didn't want to die, however. Just a day ago, he wouldn't have cared so much, but Bin had _accepted_ him. Someone he loved had finally come forth and accepted him regardless of his status and his magical abilities, and Dongmin wanted to stay in Bin's metaphorical embrace for as long as possible. If he died right then and there from a witch's spell, he would never have the chance to experience the true, romantic adoration that he longed for so desperately.

He was able to gather his focus on Bin, even if it looked like there were double or triple of the man he loved. Everything was spotty, blurry, but Dongmin trained his eyes solely on Bin, who wasn't yet putting the gun down, and who wasn't yet pulling the trigger.

The witch said something, and Dongmin felt the grip tighten. He arched his body up as he choked on nothing, as he slowly suffocated, and then he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He _prayed_ for oxygen to enter his body again (and he wondered just how many times he had been so thankful that he could breathe properly – the gunshot wound had been a small scratch in comparison to how terrible _this_ was, and he would have gladly traded suffocation for ten more bullet wounds).

Unexpectedly then, though, he heard Bin's weapon fire. It rang through Dongmin's ears, echoing, somehow close and yet so far away. Dongmin had one second to wonder whether or not the hit had been accurate enough, and then he was given his answer.

The magical grip on his throat disappeared completely, and Dongmin drew a painful gasp of breath. He coughed on it, hands still lightly wrapped around his own neck, and breathed in again. His throat was hoarse and it was still excruciating trying to breathe, but his lungs slowly began to praise the very air he was taking in.

“Dongmin!” he heard Bin cry out. His eyesight was still blurry and he tried to meet Bin's gaze when the junior detective leaned over him. “Dongmin, I shot – I killed her. I killed – I killed someone, oh _god_ , Dongmin, are you okay?”

Bin's voice was trembling, and Dongmin tried to say, “I'm fine, Bin,” but he just choked on his words instead, his body still trying to gather more breath before he could speak properly.

Bin didn't seem to recognize the choked nonsense that sputtered from Dongmin's mouth. He looked panicked, from what Dongmin could see, and his hands came over to cover the bullet wound.

“Don't die,” the younger man whispered, and Dongmin felt tear drops suddenly fall on his face. They rolled down his cheeks as if they were Dongmin's own tears, and he _longed_ to be able to speak right then, if only to comfort Bin and inform him that he would be perfectly fine. “Pl-Please don't die, Dongmin, you can't die!”

“I'm not going to die,” is what Dongmin's mind tried to make his mouth say, but, once more, all that came forth was coughing and choked gasps of breath.

Bin was completely misinterpreting Dongmin's situation, it seemed. He was _crying_ , for one, and Dongmin absolutely hated it when his eyesight stopped being so blurry and he was able to focus on the heartbroken expression on Bin's face. He hated seeing that despair and panic, and he brought his bloodied hand up, placing it on Bin's cheek as a comforting measure.

Once more, though, it didn't seem as if Bin completely understood the gesture. He placed his own hand over top of it and sobbed out, “I love you.”

If anything, that just made Dongmin cough more, and Bin cried out loudly, “Do-Dongmin, please don't die! I _love_ you, I love you so much, you can't die o-on me! I love you – I love everything a-about you, I love _you_ and your magic and your hair and eyes and your organization and-and _everything_ , don't die, just please be o-okay and love me right back, Dongmin, _please_ be okay! The chief is coming, and he told m-me that the ambulance is also coming for-for you, so just hold on, okay? You'll be fine.”

There were tears cascading down Bin's cheeks, and many of those tears collected on Dongmin's fingertips, mingling in with the blood. Dongmin, still sputtering and gasping for that sweet, sweet air, felt his heart beat wildly from the confession.

_Bin loved him_.

That had been all he wanted Bin to say, he realized. Since the moment _he_ knew of his own love for Bin, he had longed to hear Bin say it back to him. Originally, too, he had assumed it was just something he had to pretend in his mind, because there was no way Bin would ever love a mind reader.

Hearing the words, hearing Bin repeat those words over and over, made Dongmin grin widely. He closed his eyes as he replayed Bin's voice in his head.

_I love you_.

He wanted to say it back so badly, but he couldn't talk still, and all he heard was Bin's sobs and wails as the junior detective bent down and held him close. Dongmin also wanted to warn Bin that the blood was probably all over his nice shirt by now, but he actually didn't care if Bin got bloody, because _Bin was hugging him_.

Bin loved him. Bin was physically embracing him. Despite the gunshot wound and the obvious suffocation he had to endure, he decided that this day was probably one of the best days of his life.

(It was also probably the worst day of Bin's life, considering he thought Dongmin was passing away right before his eyes.)

Dongmin was finally starting to get his breath stabilized, though, and he managed to gasp out, “Binnie-” before coughing once more.

Bin held him all the tighter. Dongmin tried not to wince when pressure was being forced onto his shoulder.

“Dongmin, please stay with me! Just live, okay? I'll take care of you, and I'll never let you go through this again.”

Dongmin knew that Bin couldn't see the large smile on his face. He felt bad for feeling so joyful when Bin was feeling so upset, but he couldn't help the fact that his heart was beating wildly and overflowing completely with love.

“Binnie!” he whispered, and his voice was too scratchy from the day's ordeals to have the sort of impact he wanted it to have.

He was ready, though, to return the love confession, to exclaim (or, rather, hoarsely whisper) his own love for Bin, but then he heard loud yelling and heavy footsteps coming his way. When he concentrated on that, he also heard sirens right outside, and he realized the police and medics had arrived.

It was terrible timing, too. He would be totally fine, but now, as he was being pulled away from Bin for the medical professionals to look over his state of being, he figured he wouldn't get the chance to exclaim his love just then.

It sucked, it really did, especially when he saw the emotional pain on Bin's tearful expression as the medics lifted him onto a stretcher.

“Dongmin!” A new voice had joined into the fray, one Dongmin recognized very clearly as the chief. He took deep breaths as the older man appeared suddenly over him; the chief's gaze was full of worry, as well, and he grasped Dongmin's hand as Bin was pushed aside by other policemen. “Dongmin, are you alright?”

“Fine,” Dongmin gasped out. “Hurts, though.”

“Oh my _god_ , I can't believe – oh, god, you'll be fine. I know you will.” They were wheeling him out, and Dongmin had to crane his neck to see Bin being questioned by someone. The chief followed the stretcher, however, still holding Dongmin's hand.

“If you don't make a speedy recovery, I _will_ kill you, Dongmin, you hear me?” The chief looked as if he was about to cry, too.

“I will,” Dongmin murmured, and he finally closed his eyes. It was all over. Bin was fine, Bin loved him, and he could rest before returning that love. “Chief, I'm sorry.”

“What the hell are you sorry for?” The stretcher stopped, presumably now near the ambulance, and the chief's hands were running through Dongmin's hair. “You caught the witch and killed it. You guys did great, Dongmin, you did perfect. You'll be fine, I promise, thank you-”

“Are you coming with me?” Dongmin wanted _someone_ to ride with him so he wouldn't have to face the crushing loneliness as they fixed his gunshot wound, but when he peeked through heavy eyelids, the chief was shaking his head.

“I can't, I can't, I have to- I have to assess the crime scene. You'll be fine. It won't be long, Dongmin. Just sleep, okay? Just take a break. You did fantastic.”

“Bin did it all.”

“You _both_ did great.” The chief finally released Dongmin as they loaded him into the ambulance.

“Chief?” Dongmin's voice was too scratchy to call out to him properly, but the chief was listening closely, anyway.

“Yes?”

“Tell Bin – I'm fine, tell him I'm okay.”

“I will, Dongmin.”

And then the doors shut. There was an unfamiliar medic by Dongmin's side who instantly began checking over Dongmin's well-being, and Dongmin wished Bin was somewhere with him. Dongmin wished Bin was still hugging him and holding him and whispering out how much he loved him.

He needed to hear that again. As much as his logic told him how stupid he was, his heart decided that Bin's love was the only real medicine he would ever need.

Other than, of course, all of the medicine the doctors started to deliver to him when he finally arrived at the hospital. He was wheeled into a separate room, and before he knew what was going on, he was put to sleep. The doctors didn't seem overly frantic, he thought as he drifted off, which made him think his chances for getting out of this perfectly fine were very, _very_ high.

Which just meant he could see Bin sooner rather than later.

He wasn't certain how much time had passed during his rest. It was impossible to tell from the drawn blinds in the brightly lit hospital room when he finally came to, and he stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds before looking around at his surroundings.

He remembered studying to become a doctor, and, as such, he was able to recognize the fact that he was stabilized and recovering. He was also able to recognize the fact that the hospital gown they had given him to wear was uncomfortable, and he shifted slightly in his bed.

“You're awake!”

The voice startled him, and he snapped his head to look over to his other side.

“Bin?”

“You don't have to talk much right now.” Bin's face was still swollen, and badly so, which made Dongmin assume that not much time had passed at all. He had noticeable tear streaks down his cheeks, cutting through the bruises, but when Dongmin stared at him, he smiled. “The doctors said you'll be fine. They said the bullet didn't hit anything major, and your voice will be sore for a while, but you'll be fine. You're alright.”

Dongmin blinked before glancing down at his arm. His shoulder was wrapped up, the hospital gown hanging slightly down to allow for the bandages to guard the wound properly, and his arm was put up in a sling.

And the more Dongmin found himself fully waking up, the more uncomfortable he found the entire setup to be. He wished magic users were seen as worthwhile so that the hospital could employ healers. He wasn't sure why they _didn't_. And he wasn't sure why he hadn't made friends with a healer just yet, because that way his shoulder would be fixed up far more quickly and he wouldn't have to stay in the hospital.

But that wasn't the way life worked out for him apparently, so he tried to ignore the sling for now, and he refocused his eyes back on Bin.  
“The witch...?”

“I killed it. Her. It?” Bin sighed and shook his head. “I didn't know if I should shoot or not at first. If I missed – I was taking a huge gamble on your life, Dong – I mean, Detective Lee. I was putting your entire life on my ability to aim properly. I've never shot a gun before, and my hands were shaking, but I kept hearing you choke, and – either way, I think, you would have died.”

Bin swallowed thickly, and he played with the sheets on Dongmin's bed, his fingers running past the creases and dips that they made. “I was terrified you would die, Detective Lee.”

Dongmin stared up at him. Bin didn't seem to want to make eye contact, but Dongmin longed to see his gaze, to detect any love or adoration.

“I told the chief everything. I-I mean, I left out the bit about your, um... _talent_ , and just told him that Seojin spilled everything to us. It – she, I mean, _she_ – was taken away by the government. They come pretty quickly if you let them know that there's a witch nearby.” He gave a short laugh, but he didn't sound as if he found anything funny about the situation. “Chief said they'll probably do some experiments on her body, since witches are rare.”

“Oh.”

Bin cleared his throat. “The chief is on his way soon. He told me I could come ahead, though. He's really worried, but he said that you-”

“Dongmin.”

There was silence for a second and Bin's face went from concerned to confused _very_ fast. Dongmin found it amusing, and he smiled lightly as he stared at the younger man.

“Excuse me?”

“Don't call me Detective Lee.” Dongmin's voice was still too sore to talk louder than a whisper, and Bin had to lean in to listen. “It's...it's very professional. It sounds like we're nothing more than work partners if you call me that.”

“But...but, um, you said – you said you only wanted to be work partners. Remember? You did say that. Because I kind of thought before that we'd be good together, but you said we were _just_ work partners.”

Dongmin sighed quietly. “Yeah. I never wanted that, though.” His smiled widened into a slight grin and he raised his eyebrows. “I didn't know you would like me back despite my – what did you call it? - my _talent_. I had no idea you...you _loved_ me, in any case.”

Bin's lips tightened, and he finally looked away. “I don't care if you don't love me back. I'll keep loving you. If you don't love me, I'll just support and love you from afar. I'll-”

“Gosh, Bin, you're silly.” Dongmin couldn't even laugh – it just turned into a cough, and Bin shushed him as Dongmin struggled to regain his composure.

“You don't need to tell me, I know I'm silly. I'm sorry for loving you when you don't love-”

“I love you.”

Once more, there was silence, and Dongmin enjoyed watching the shock slowly display itself on Bin's face. “You-?”

“I've loved you for so long now. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone.”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

The shock turned into a grin to rival the sun, and Bin laughed loudly, portraying all the emotion Dongmin longed to show. “You _love me_!”

Dongmin just nodded his head and grinned, and Bin bounced in his seat for a few seconds before brushing back Dongmin's bangs, obviously unable to contain his excitement. “God, I want to hug you _so bad_ , but you have that sling on and you're all hooked up to stuff – whenever you get out, I need to hug-”

“You can kiss me, though. I mean, if you lean over everything, it'll be fine.”

Bin's eyes widened. “Kiss?”

“If...if you want. We can wait.”

“We can _kiss_?”

Dongmin was finally able to giggle quietly, and with his free hand, he pointed at his forehead. “Right here first, please.”

“Why there first?”

“So you can return a kiss that I gave you.”

Bin blinked. “Wait – wait, Dongmin, _you_ already kissed _me_?”

Dongmin remembered that night, full of despair and a crushing weight of guilt and depression that had washed over him when he had pressed his lips to Bin's skin. He figured now would be the perfect time for Bin to give his permission, even if it _was_ a little late coming. “I kissed you on your forehead the night I spent over at your place. You were asleep and I just-”

“You kissed me and _never told me_?”

“I'm so sorry. I should've asked.”

“No. No, you _never_ have to ask to kiss me, because the answer is always yes. But, _god_ , Dongmin, couldn't you have woken me up for that?”

Dongmin reached over and grabbed onto Bin's hand. “Are you not angry with me?”

“Of course not!” Bin was leaning in. “I was wondering why my forehead was so warm and tingly when I had woken up finally.”

“You're lying. It wasn't warm and tingly.”

“It was. Here, feel it-” And then Bin kissed Dongmin's forehead.

It was everything Dongmin had longed for it to be. It was chaste but serene, quick but full of depth. And when Bin _did_ pull back, Dongmin realized he was correct; his forehead felt warm and tingly.

His heart did, as well, as it proudly let him know that it was no longer a shattered mess, that it was completely repaired and ready to give Bin nothing but its love.

“Stop grinning at me like that!” Bin complained.

Dongmin didn't stop. “Sorry. Sorry. I just – I'm so happy, Binnie.”

“Binnie?”

Dongmin was happy that his voice was too hoarse to display any sort of embarrassment, but he was certain his cheeks were red, anyway. “Ah, I...I decided that if we ever got together, I would give you a cute nickname. If you don't like it, I can-”

“I love it, _Dongminnie_ ,” Bin teased him, and Dongmin pouted.

“That's not fair. You just stole my nickname.”

“It's cute, though. It's cute, just like you.”

Dongmin wished he could groan; he rolled his eyes, in any case, and had to endure Bin laughing at his humiliation. “Binnie, just – just kiss me properly. No more forehead kisses.”

“No more for right now,” Bin corrected. “Because I'll give you a million of them later.” He stood from his seat and leaned over Dongmin, working on finding the correct position. He bumped his nose into Dongmin's cheek first, pressing a light kiss there (and Dongmin found the skin got warm and tingly), then focused on Dongmin's lips. “My lip is still cut,” he murmured. “I'm sorry if the kiss isn't perfect for a first time-”

“It's perfect,” Dongmin whispered.

“I haven't even kissed you yet.”

“Well, go ahead and do it, but I know it'll be perfect.”

And Bin leaned down the rest of the way, pressing his lips softly against Dongmin's. Dongmin minded Bin's wound as he kissed back, capturing those perfect lips in his own, sighing against them as he brought his free hand up to run through Bin's messy hair.

Bin gave a soft hum as he continued the kiss, mouth moving slowly and gently. He showered Dongmin with every dream, every fantasy that Dongmin had imagined, and somehow still managed to make it all better. Dongmin was breathless by the time the kiss ended.

(Dongmin was right; he knew it was perfect.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what does next chapter involve? cute binu. basically it's binu being a cute power couple until the very end. there _is_ a slightly extra plot thrown in, just to explain why they move to myungjun's town, but there's no mystery there, it's more or less the whole astro gang together once more.
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) so i can stop suing myself.


	17. seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I said,” Bin started, and his husky, sleep-ridden voice made Dongmin's heart beat faster in his chest, “-that you can kiss me whenever you'd like. Permission has been granted for the rest of eternity, Dongminnie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kisses and new plot point (sort of). burn me at the stake.

“Oh, gosh, Dongmin, I thought you were going to die when I saw you! I seriously thought you were dying, and Bin's tears didn't make it any better – are you _seriously_ okay, Dongmin? You're not hurt anymore, are you?”

Dongmin shot Bin a desperate look. Bin simply smiled his way.

_Traitor_ , Dongmin thought bitterly as his head was once again shoved into the police chief's embrace. “Don't you worry, Dongmin. I'm never going to let anything happen to you again.”

Dongmin's free hand moved up to pat slowly at the chief's back. “Thanks, Chief, but-”

“ _Ever_ , Dongmin. I will _never_ let something bad happen – Bin, from now on, make sure that Dongmin never, ever walks inside a bad situation. And if I send him after a witch again, just hit me, alright?”

“That's permission to hit you, Chief?”

“It is.”

Bin looked delighted, and Dongmin just scowled as the chief finally pulled away from his lengthy hug and ran his fingers through Dongmin's hair. “Bin's taking care of you, correct?”

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“Well, he's requested the next few days off, presumably so he could stay here with you.”

Dongmin blinked and glanced over at Bin, who averted his gaze, sheepish and nervous. That was interesting, and Bin hadn't told him anything about taking vacation days. Still, Dongmin liked the idea of Bin sticking by his side in the hospital, so he decided against bringing it up.

“Maybe he's just been through a traumatic experience and needs some time to himself,” Dongmin suggested.

The chief appeared to think over Dongmin's statement before scoffing. “Probably not.”

“He killed someone.”

“He killed some _thing_ ,” the chief responded proudly. “It was just a witch, Bin, don't feel too worked up over it.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes, but the chief picked up on that. “I see you're feeling well enough to roll your eyes at me, Dongmin.”

“Chief-”

“I guess you feel well enough to come into work, then.”

Dongmin sighed and leaned back in bed. “Believe me, I would much rather be at work than I would be stuck in this hospital. I do have to wait for the discharge, though.” The doctors wanted to keep him around a little while longer, mostly to ensure that none of the witch's spells had remained. Dongmin longed to inform them that it was a silly thing to believe a witch's spells would continue even after her death, as there had never been a case of such a thing happening, but tensions were high after word had spread that there _had_ been a witch in the city.

(The chief had informed Dongmin that word also spread that the local police department took care of it before the government knew a thing about it, and now Dongmin and Bin seemed to be a big hit with other police stations dealing with magic users.)

The chief clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and patted Dongmin's hand. “You've told me all that happened yesterday, didn't you? You didn't leave out any details, did you?”

“What details do you believe I might have left out?”

The chief shrugged. “Hm, nothing that I can willingly write down in a police report. I don't want to damn your life, after all.”

When Dongmin glanced at him curiously, the chief held up his pointer finger. “Don't even think about doing anything with _me_ ,” he whispered, and then he brushed Dongmin's bangs away from his eyes. “Or on Bin. Just focus on using talents on bad guys, right?”

Dongmin blinked. “By, um, by _talents_ , do you mean-?”

“Shh.” The chief stood from his seat and offered Dongmin a small wink. “I know absolutely nothing because you never told me a thing, correct?”

When Dongmin didn't answer, the chief turned to Bin. “Take care of him for me, okay? I'll be back for a visit tomorrow. I know it's a hospital, Dongmin, but _please_ get some sleep. After all you went through, I think you'll need an actual rest. You guys were up at all hours of the morning helping me, and I really do thank you for your efforts.”

He bowed and moved to leave, but Bin quickly stopped him. “Chief, what about Officer Hong? Will he be alright? I knocked him out, and I-”

“Officer Hong is fine. He wanted to visit, but I told him to just take a few days off and relax. He's been through a lot. Officer Choi, too, is off for a bit, and Hyejeong is back home with her family.” The chief smiled brightly. “So I guess all of our loose ends have been wrapped up, haven't they?”

Dongmin had to agree that the case was finally closed. He looked up at the ceiling with a loud sigh, which caused the chief to snort.

“Don't sound too excited, Dongmin.”

“I'm just...I'm relieved. No one else will get hurt because of a witch now.”

“Well, as long as magic exists, so will witches. And as long as witches exist, so does the possibility of them using their magic against normal people.” The chief pointed at Bin and Dongmin. “And that's where people like you two come in, to help save everyone.”

“You said I could hit you if you made Dongmin go after another witch,” Bin mumbled, which caused the chief to laugh.

“So I did. Well, I'm not sending you after one just yet, so we still have time.” He gave Bin's back a hefty pat before opening the door to Dongmin's hospital room. “Sleep well, Dongmin. I'll be back tomorrow. Bin, don't leave his side.”

Bin waited until he was fully gone to plop down in the chair beside Dongmin's hospital bed. “I don't know how you've dealt with him for so long.”

Dongmin hummed. “He's not so bad. I think he tries acting like a father to me. He knows I don't have a very good relationship with my parents.”

Bin eyed Dongmin's free hand for a minute before reaching out and holding it in his grasp, thumb rubbing over the pale skin. “You don't have a good relationship with them?”

Dongmin laughed. “Not at all.”

“Do they know you're...?”

“My mother does. My father was always off on business trips. I hardly saw him, and he never cared much to see me. I ended up blurting it out to my mother one day, and...she didn't take it well.”

Bin was silent, simply nodding his head for Dongmin to continue. Their hands were joined comfortably in Bin's lap, and egged by Bin's interest and care, Dongmin continued.

“She didn't believe me at first. She had always hated magic users. When she finally learned Myungjun was a magic user, she had us move, but she said some _terrible_ things about him. I don't think I ever fully recovered from hearing my mom claim that my best friend was better off dead.”

“No one would recover from that,” Bin murmured, and he held Dongmin's hand up to his mouth to press a light kiss on his knuckles.

Dongmin smiled softly. “Well, I guess that was part of the reason I told her. I knew how upset she would be, but I was tired of living with the knowledge that she only liked me because she thought I was normal. And, as expected, the moment I told her what I was, she lost all love she ever had for me.”

He licked his lips as the memories of his mother resurfaced. Bin, recognizing Dongmin's internal turmoil, squeezed the older man's hand a little tighter.

“She called me a monster. She said I wasn't her son. And-and she threw a plate at me. It shattered – I have a long scar down my arm from it, from where I tried blocking it.”

“She did all of that?”

Dongmin nodded his head, forcing himself not to look over at Bin's face. His tone of voice made him seem horrified enough; Dongmin didn't want to see pity right at that moment.

“Dongmin, I'm so sorry. You're _not_ a monster, and-”

“I know I'm not, Binnie.” Dongmin took a deep breath. “Regardless of how I left my mother's house, I knew I _would_ leave one day or another. I knew I _would_ make her upset, unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life tied down to her wishes and dreams for me. I was basically a product. I was molded and shaped to be _her_ idea of a perfect son, and the moment I strayed from that, she would have gone after me.” He scoffed. “I mean, not as harshly as she did upon learning what I was, though.”

The machines in the room made steady beeps, the only sound in the otherwise dead silence. Bin appeared to be thinking for a few minutes, rehashing the story over in his head.

When he did speak, his voice was hushed. “You don't miss her, do you?”

Dongmin glanced out at the window, his eyes scanning the moon that was just barely seen through the curtains. “I don't know,” he whispered.

“Why would you miss someone like that?”

Dongmin took a deep breath, and when he finally forced himself to look back at Bin, he found that his gaze was watery and his lips were trembling. “I-I miss feeling like I belong,” he choked out.

“You do belong, though.”

Dongmin sniffed and nodded his head. “With you, I do.” He wished his eyesight wasn't blurry with those unshed tears, because he noticed a red blush spotting across Bin's face. He wished he could see it properly. “But I wish I belonged in a _family_ , Binnie. I wish my mom loved me, despite who I was. I wish – I wish my dad had come by more often. I wish I wasn't _like this_.”

He finally did cry, tears rolling down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from Bin. His breath hitched, creating small gasps and hiccups in between his sobs, and all was still for a few seconds.

But then Bin was pushing him over in the bed slightly, and Dongmin complied with a quiet, “What a-are you doing, Binnie?”

Bin crawled into the bed, minding the devices hooked up to Dongmin's skin, ensuring that he didn't hit the bandaged arm as he moved.

“Binnie-?”

“You're a magic user, whether you like it or not,” Bin murmured. He pulled Dongmin into his embrace, pushing Dongmin's head down to rest in the crook of his neck. “And, _god_ , I love you despite that. I love you _with_ that. I wouldn't ask for you to carry the burden of being a magic user, but if it's something you possess, I will always love you, and I will always love it, because it's part of you. It's not going away just because you wish it to. And that's fine. I'll take away any of the hatred you might get because you _have_ that talent. I'll beat up anyone who says it makes you less of a person.”

Dongmin sobbed out and wrapped his one good arm around Bin. “Why-Why do you care for me so much? It's easier for you if-if you would leave me alone.”

“Love isn't easy.”

Dongmin wondered when the beeping of the machines had gotten so loud. They made Dongmin's head pound as he looked up at Bin. The younger detective smiled widely and wiped some of the tears from Dongmin's cheeks.

“L-Love?” Dongmin whispered.

“I think we've already established that I love you, yeah.”

“Even...even with my _talents_ -”

“With your talents and your hatred of Sherlock Holmes and your bitterness when you have to pay for my drinks and your reluctance to watch superhero films with me.”

Dongmin let out a breathy laugh, then buried his face back into Bin's neck.

“I'm crying all over you,” he complained.

“Awesome,” Bin murmured.

“It's pathetic.”

“Then I love you even with your pathetic crying.”

Dongmin gave another laugh and smacked Bin's chest. “I love you, too, Binnie.”

He couldn't see Bin's face from his position, but he heard the smile in his voice when he responded, “Let's get some sleep, Dongminnie.”

Sleep came easily somehow, despite the noises in the room and the constant nurse checkups. Dongmin assumed it was because he had found somewhere he _truly_ belonged. While wrapped up in Bin's embrace in such a manner, Dongmin realized he felt like he was _home_. Bin's arms felt safe and secure, and Dongmin curled up all the more into them. He wasn't ever going to leave Bin's side.

He woke with the sun peeking in through the curtains, rays of bright pinks and oranges settling across the room. Dongmin pulled back slightly from the position he had been in throughout the night, rubbing at the crick in his neck and wondering if he could convince Bin to sleep like this _every_ night from then on.

Even if he couldn't, though, maybe they could compromise and do it once or twice a week.

Dongmin brought his hand up to lightly touch at Bin's face, his fingers running over the bruises that still weren't ready to heal up. He brushed the back of his hand against Bin's split lip, wincing at the nasty colors that surrounded the wound.

He kissed it then, remembering that kisses could make everything better.

It was the kiss that finally woke Bin up, and his eyelashes fluttered for a few seconds before a sleepy gaze peered over at Dongmin.

Dongmin blushed, embarrassed at having been caught exchanging a kiss without first getting proper permission. “I'm sorry,” Dongming murmured. “I just...really wanted to kiss you.”

“I said,” Bin started, and his husky, sleep-ridden voice made Dongmin's heart beat faster in his chest, “-that you can kiss me whenever you'd like. Permission has been granted for the rest of eternity, Dongminnie.”

“Can I kiss you now, then?”

“Rest of eternity means now, too.” But Bin was the first to move forward and capture Dongmin's lips in his own. It wasn't as chaste as it had been previously – Bin's lips moved against his own sloppily, and after a few seconds, they turned into desperate wide, open-mouthed kisses that Dongmin readily returned. It took a bit of re-positioning, but Bin was soon straddling Dongmin in order to gain better access to his lips, and his fingers tugged lightly at Dongmin's hair.

“Binnie,” Dongmin moaned out, and he closed his eyes, bringing his own hand up to return Bin's actions, but then-

“Bin!”

It wasn't Dongmin's voice, nor was it Bin (and why would he exclaim his own name, anyway?), so both of the boys pulled back to stare over at the entrance to the hospital room.

The chief stood there looking oddly delighted. Next to him was a nurse, hiding her face with a clipboard.

“Bin!” the chief repeated, taking large strides toward the bed. “You move _fast_ , I didn't expect you to start making out with him in the _hospital_. Nurse, did you see that? Look at them, they're in such a compromising position!”

Bin seemed frozen in place, despite Dongmin's squirming, and the chief laughed.

The nurse mumbled something under her breath, and Dongmin didn't quite catch it, but the chief translated the murmurs. “She said that this behavior is entirely inappropriate, and she needs you to leave the room, _Binnie._ ”

Bin blushed at the pet name being spoken from the chief's mouth, and he scrambled off of the bed once he came out of his shock. “Sorry!” he announced, bowing deeply to both the chief and the nurse. The nurse refused to meet his gaze, but the chief beamed at him.

“You guys can get more into that when Dongmin is discharged, don't worry, _Binnie_.”

Bin didn't appear to be looking for parental approval of his lewd actions, so he simply bowed again and exited the room quickly.

Dongmin wished _he_ could also exit the room. Now all eyes were on him, and he felt incredibly humiliated at having been caught doing such a thing.

“I-I'm sorry,” Dongmin apologized to the nurse, meeting her disapproving gaze. “It won't happen again.”

“It shouldn't have happened the first time,” she mumbled as she went about checking Dongmin's wound.

Dongmin cleared his throat, but the chief simply laughed and sat down next to the bed. “Someone doesn't understand youthful love,” he quipped, causing the nurse to glare over at him. “Don't worry, though, Dongmin, I completely understand. There had been _way_ too much sexual tension in my office, and I was hoping one of you would stick his hands down the other's-”

“What do you want, Chief?” Dongmin asked in exasperation.

The chief chuckled and held out a folder. “Honestly, I'm not looking forward to this, but it appears I need to transfer you.”

“What?” Dongmin blinked and his eyes widened. “Transfer? Why?”

“I have a friend who works as a police chief in Boryeong. He claims they've had a bout of magic users in his area, which is perfectly fine as long as they don't cause trouble, but recently people have been spreading rumors about a witch in town. And I know I said that Bin should hit me if I sent you after a witch again, but-” The chief glanced at the closed door behind him, then smiled, “-Bin isn't here, so I suppose I can get out of it that way.”

Dongmin stared at the chief. “You want to transfer me in order to kill another witch?”

“ _I_ don't. But I have my orders.” The smile was faltering on the chief's face, and Dongmin averted his gaze.

“I don't want to go.”

“You have to.”

Dongmin sighed loudly. “Chief, I like it here. I _really_ don't want to go kill another witch.”

“It won't be too difficult to fight, though. From what I've heard, it's a weaker witch. It's just a matter of actually _finding_ it. You don't even have to do anything with it, just inform the government of its location, and they can take care of the rest. You have the necessary talents to figure it out.”

Dongmin wet his lips with his tongue, but before he could say anything, the chief mumbled, “I don't know why you have to wet your lips – didn't Bin do that enough for you?”

The nurse's hands slipped as she redressed the wound, causing Dongmin to hiss out in pain. She didn't apologize, and the chief scowled in her direction. “Mind being a little more careful with him, please? He was _shot_.”

“I noticed,” the nurse responded dryly, and once she finished, she left the room without another word.

“Chief,” Dongmin started, “I finally feel like I belong. Bin's accepted me, and-”

“Bin can go with you.”

“Have you asked Bin?”

“No, but I think he'd agree to go wherever you go. Just go ahead and take my entire police force with you, I guess, when we're about to start doing some drug busts, thanks.” But the chief didn't look too disappointed at announcing Bin's departure, as well. Instead, he looked over Dongmin with a soft gaze, then worked on straightening his hospital gown. “This isn't my decision. My decision would be to just send you the biggest paycheck I could find and make you live in a mansion away from all harm.”

“You're such a liar,” Dongmin mumbled. “You would much rather put me on every single case you could find.”

“Yeah, well, lying makes me sound nicer.” He finished fixing Dongmin's clothes, then passed over the folder he had. “This has the information you need. I can find Bin and discuss it with him, too. Once you're discharged, though, you can take some time to find a place down there to live and...and then you can move.”

Dongmin stared at the folder before glancing up at the chief. He watched the older man stand from his chair and clear his throat. “And choose a place with a guest bedroom so I can come visit.”

“You can only visit if the host invites you, Chief.”

“And will this host invite me?”

Dongmin sighed before offering the chief a small smile. It was returned tenfold. “I'll think about it, Chief.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't burn me at the stake lol. NEXT CHAPTER introduces the rest of astro (guess who the witch is, just guess). the socky sequel has actually been planned out, and i've gotten the a-okay of "hey this plot doesn't seem like a piece of crap," so once elementary is wrapped up, i'll get to work writing the socky sequel!
> 
> but first, gotta get three more chapters of binu and the rest of the gang.
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) so I can buy this cool looking fan/air circulator because GOODNESS it is hot.


	18. eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wished he couldn't read minds. He wished he never knew who Jinwoo was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so myungjun and minhyuk are introduced. also, sort of jinwoo. and rip nancy. (a lot happens this chapter and the transitions are weird, pls stick with me ;A;)

“Hey, Dongmin?”

Dongmin glanced up from the box of dishes he was currently going through. Bin was sitting nearby, examining one of Dongmin's many notebooks he had kept up with during difficult cases. He flipped through a few of the pages and then met Dongmin's gaze with inquisitive eyes.

“Is something wrong, Binnie?”

Bin shrugged. “Just wondering, but you mentioned before how you couldn't read my mind. Remember that? You said it was like something blocked you from it. And...and back when we were fighting the witch and it tried to use magic on me, nothing happened.” The younger man's fingers trailed across a page of the notebook he currently had open. “What was that all about?”

Dongmin was quiet for a few seconds before lifting a stack of plates up and shoving it in a cabinet. “You're immune to magic.”

“Is that really a thing?”

“I didn't believe it was, but magic simply doesn't work on you.” Dongmin finished unloading the box he was working on, and he pushed it aside and grabbed another box, labeled _KITCHEN_ in Bin's messy handwriting. “Which I suppose is a blessing for you. You have nothing to be scared of when we start trying to find this other witch.”

Bin snorted and he set the notebooks back in their box in order to join Dongmin. “I'm scared for _you_ ,” he mentioned, and then he wrapped his arms around the older detective, his chest pressing into Dongmin's back and his cheek resting on Dongmin's shoulder. “Part of me wishes you could have rejected this transfer, because it might be safer back in Seoul.”

“Seoul is a much larger place than Boryeong,” Dongmin muttered. “Odds are Seoul has a lot more dangerous magic users.”

“But we know for a _fact_ that Boryeong has a witch somewhere.”

Bin was correct in that regard. After having finally been discharged, he and Bin had moved into a small apartment in Boryeong, and they had met with the police chief of the district. He had informed them that a witch was selling potions to other magic users, according to trusted sources of his, and that they needed the witch to be turned in to the government or simply killed. (“You killed a witch before,” the chief had mentioned to Bin, “so you can easily kill a witch again if you can catch it.”)

“It's selling potions, though. It doesn't seem _too_ dangerous. At the very least, the only potion the government was able to get their hands on was a potion to make hair grow back quicker, and it – the witch, I mean – sold its potion to a _cancer_ patient.” Dongmin craned his neck to place a soft kiss on Bin's temple. “So it doesn't sound dangerous.”

“You never know with witches, though.”

“I know.”

“And I can't stand seeing you hurt again, Dongminnie.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying that. I'm serious.” Bin pulled back and stared seriously at Dongmin. “Promise me that you won't go after it yourself. If you figure out who the witch is, you'll let me know? I can go take care of it myself, because it can't hurt me.”

“I don't want-”

“If you don't promise this, I'll move out into my own place.”

Dongmin sighed. “I promise,” he murmured. He left out the bit that he wasn't going to tell Bin at all; he didn't want Bin to have more blood on his hands. Instead, he would just inform the government and let them deal with the witch.

Still, the promise made Bin's face brighten, and he smacked his lips against Dongmin's before grinning widely. “Let's keep unpacking,” he said. “I want to have a nice, homey apartment by the end of this week, if possible.”

“If you would stop looking through my police notebooks, it would be possible,” Dongmin complained as he turned back to finish putting away his dishes.

Bin snorted and moved back to the notebooks, though this time he put them away instead of reading them. They worked for a few more hours until most of the larger boxes were cleared out, and when Bin started slowing down and mumbling about how tired he was, Dongmin decided to be the first one to declare them finished for the night.

Dongmin also decided that he could get used to living with Bin. He watched him slurp up his noodles from across their dining room table, commenting on how great of a cook Dongmin was. He watched him lazily brush his teeth, toothpaste foam lining his lips as he babbled nonsense about exploring the city when they got the chance to do so. And he watched him close his eyes for the evening, lulled by the soft calls of sleep, his peaceful face illuminated solely by the streetlights from outside and from Dongmin's digital clock perched on their dresser.

“Binnie?” Dongmin whispered. Bin didn't answer, so Dongmin leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his boyfriend's forehead. “Binnie, I love you.”

Bin didn't wake up, but before Dongmin drifted to sleep, he noticed a smile tugging at the younger boy's lips.

Dongmin figured life was absolutely perfect; Bin thought otherwise.

“Nancy's sick,” he murmured one day. The small dog was in his lap, stretched out across his legs. Her eyes were glossy and her tail hadn't wagged in days.

Dongmin stood over the two for a few seconds before Bin looked up at him with watery eyes. “What am I supposed to do, Dongminnie?”

“We can try a different vet,” Dongmin suggested.

“We've been to three vets in the area, and there aren't anymore close by.” Bin ran a hand down Nancy's fur, petting her softly. She only whimpered in response. “I know she's old, but I don't want her to die.”

Dongmin bit his lip, then gestured for Bin to stand up. “Come on.”

“What?”

“I'll take you out. We'll think things through and maybe we can find someone who can heal her.” He helped move the dog over to the large bed Bin had bought the other day. Bin gave Nancy at least five kisses before finally standing up to join Dongmin.

He sniffled as Dongmin drove closer into town, and Dongmin prayed that Bin wouldn't cry. He didn't want to see Bin cry.

“Where are we going?” Bin asked.

“I'm not sure.” Dongmin was looking for somewhere small and quaint, somewhere quiet and empty – and, fortunately, he found it. It was a bakery close to an alleyway, almost hidden from view by the trees nearby. From what Dongmin _could_ see of it, there were flowers and plants in almost all of the windowsills, and it did appear empty enough.

“How about there?” Dongmin asked, and he didn't wait for Bin to answer before he pulled off the road and parked close to the building.

Bin sighed. “I thought you were taking me to see another vet.”

“Let's eat something first. I'll pay. You can get whatever you'd like.” Dongmin linked arms with Bin and led him into the bakery. Instantly, the smell of freshly made cookies wafted to Dongmin's nostrils, and he wondered just how long it had been since he had actually been inside a bakery. The lighting was bright and the music playing softly in the background was calming.

“I like this place,” Dongmin muttered.

“You would.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know, you just seem like the old-lady sort. See, young guys like _me_ go to clubs and loud bars, and you-”

“I thought you were sad,” Dongmin fussed, and he pulled Bin over to the table, ignoring the younger boy's complaints.

Bin rolled his eyes and leaned up on Dongmin's shoulder. “I am sad,” he moaned out. “My dog is dying and I don't know what to do, and you think a _bakery_ will make me feel better?”

“Just order something and we can discuss the next steps.”

Bin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in displeasure, then looked over at the menu. The young man at the counter regarded them curiously, and Dongmin met his gaze. “Hello,” Dongmin greeted.

The man cleared his throat and nodded his head as his own greeting, but didn't say anything.

Weird. Maybe he was unfriendly. Might be part of the reason the bakery was so empty, now that Dongmin stopped to think about it. “Can I just have one vanilla cupcake and...?” He glanced over at Bin, who sighed loudly and mumbled his order for Dongmin's ears only. “Two of the strawberry tarts, please. Oh, and two cups of tea, if you don't mind.”

The man rang up the order and announced the price, then rushed to get it ready. Fortunately, the wait wasn't too long, as the items had been cooked earlier, so when he passed it over with a quick, “Here you go,” Dongmin took the chance to grab everything and drag Bin to a table.

“Can't we eat it at home?” Bin asked as he pushed aside one of the three flowerpots situated at their table. “This place is sort of weird.”

“How so?”

“I don't know.” Bin bit into the tart and chewed on it for a few seconds before muttering, “It's got this weird vibe to it, and that cashier keeps looking over at us.”

Sure enough, when Dongmin turned back to the front, the cashier was staring. Having been caught, though, the man looked away hurriedly, pretending that he was just cleaning off the glass display case.

“Maybe they don't get many customers?” Dongmin murmured.

Bin sipped at his tea, then snapped his fingers. “Read his mind.”

“I'm not doing that.”

“Oh, come on. What if he's the witch and that's why he's acting all weird?” Bin whispered. “And this witch uses a lot of potions, doesn't he? And-” Bin huffed and pointed at one of the flowers, where a ladybug was crawling on a petal. “Look at this. Bugs here while we're _eating_ \- christ, witches use a lot of plants for their potions, don't they? And a bakery is a perfect place for a witch to work their magic – I mean, look, they've got that closed door behind the register.”

Bin _was_ making some very good points, and Dongmin decided that perhaps reading the cashier's mind wouldn't be a bad thing. At the very least, he could just cross the cashier off of their list of suspects. So he turned around once again and stared at the cashier, delving into his mind to ensure that there _were_ no witches here.

 _He'd better hurry up_ , the boy was frantically thinking, _because those guys look suspicious and they keep looking over at me – god, Myungjun, just hurry up-_

Dongmin blinked in confusion. Myungjun? Did he read the cashier's mind correctly? Maybe he was self-inserting names he knew, because why on earth would Myungjun be working in a bakery?

Maybe it wasn't even _Kim_ Myungjun, though. Dongmin needed to focus properly, so he read the cashier's mind again.

_That black-haired guy keeps staring at me, and he's really freaking me out, maybe I should just drop a cake, that might make him get up to help me and then he'd stop sitting there staring, at least-_

Dongmin felt a little bad, so he cleared his throat and quickly glanced away. When he met Bin's eye, he shook his head.

Bin sighed loudly and finished off the last of his strawberry tarts. “Are you going to eat your cupcake, then?” he mumbled.

“I thought you didn't want to come to the bakery.”

“Now that I'm eating, I'm a little hungry.” Without waiting for permission, Bin reached over and yanked it up from Dongmin's plate, instantly biting into the frosting. “Mm, these are good, though. Even if this place is sort of creepy, the food is good, at least.”

Dongmin would have agreed if he had gotten a chance to try anything.

He heard the cashier talk suddenly, and he looked back to see two other men behind the counter with the cashier. One of them was an elderly gentleman who was holding a box, looking extremely ecstatic and thanking the younger man over and over again. The younger man laughed and grinned and, despite looking exhausted, waved him off and said, “I hope you won't need to come back again!”

What was that supposed to mean? Surely they would _need_ the business, if the empty dining room was anything to go by, but the man seemed to agree by nodding his head and hurrying off.

The box was moving slightly as he left.

Dongmin's attention fell to the new man with the cashier. He had soft, brown hair and a grin that lit up the entire bakery.

“Is that the owner?” Bin asked, slurping at the tea.

“I'm not sure.”

“Read his mind-”

“I'm not going to read everyone's minds just because you want me to,” Dongmin shot back, and Bin frowned.

“He might be a witch.”

“Not everyone is a witch, Binnie.”

“Just try it. We can cancel him out if he isn't.”

And Dongmin hated admitting it, but Bin _still_ had a good point. Besides that, the man's smile looked incredibly familiar, and so Dongmin read his mind.

 _I wonder if I can blow off work for the rest of the day and make Minhyuk close up. Bringing back two cats from the dead is harder than he thinks it is_.

Dongmin blinked, and he noticed the man turning to look over at him. As quickly as possible, Dongmin spun around in his seat, ignoring Bin's confused stare. “What's up?”

“Is he looking at me?”

Bin peered over Dongmin's shoulder before shaking his head. “No. He's playing rock-paper-scissors with the cashier. What's wrong? Is he a witch?”

“No.” Not exactly. But at least now Dongmin knew what had happened to Kim Myungjun and his neighbor Minhyuk. It seemed they were doing well for themselves, and Dongmin wondered if maybe he should go up and reconnect with his old friend.

By the time he decided he _should_ , though, Myungjun was leaving the bakery, yelling to a disappointed-looking Minhyuk, “Don't burn the cookies again, you moron!”

Dongmin watched through the windows as Myungjun turned down one of the alleyways, and he frowned. “He's not a witch,” he muttered.

“So you said.”

“Let's go home.” He could explain it to Bin later, possibly, but he first needed to ensure that Myungjun wouldn't _mind_ being outed to Bin as a magic user. While Dongmin was certain that Bin would keep it a secret from the policemen they worked with, he was worried about blurting it out right in the middle of a bakery. Even if no one else was there, Dongmin wasn't certain what all Myungjun had gone through, and he realized these things needed to take time.

“We just got here.”

“And are you finished eating?” Dongmin stood up and Bin surveyed the empty plates in front of them.

“I think so. Are you?”

“You ate my cupcake.”

“Shit, you're right.” Bin scrambled from his seat and planted a solid kiss on Dongmin's cheek. “Wait right here, okay? I'll get you a new one.”

“I don't want-” But Bin wasn't listening. Bin was informing Minhyuk that he needed one cupcake, “for my awesome and amazing boyfriend over there, look at him and look at how cute he is, isn't he just beautiful?”

Dongmin wanted to roll his eyes, but he was more focused on trying to hide his soft smile and heavy blush.

It wasn't until he got home that he realized he never did anything about Bin's dog. And, unfortunately, Nancy died the next day. Dongmin woke up to Bin sobbing in the living room and trying to gingerly place his dog in a box.

Dongmin didn't say a word as he shuffled over, blinking sleep from his eyes, and took over the task of positioning her so she could fit properly in one of their leftover boxes Bin had saved (he claimed, “You never know when you might need a box,” and Dongmin was certain that _this_ wasn't the use for it that he had in mind).

“I-I-I scheduled an ap-appointment,” Bin choked out as he pet his dog's fur, “to ha-have her cremated.”

Dongmin nodded his head. “I can take her,” he murmured.

“Will you? Pl-Please?” Bin looked absolutely terrible as he stared down into the box, and Dongmin closed it so that Nancy's dead body was hidden from view. “I don't wa-want to be the one t-to...to _burn_ -”

“Shh.” Dongmin placed a kiss on the top of Bin's head before straightening up. “Binnie, it's alright. I can handle it.” He had never had a pet of his own and he had never thought a dog would be worth crying over, but, then again, he had never experienced such a bond before, and seeing Bin break down in tears made Dongmin happy that he had never experienced such a bond.

He wouldn't have been able to stand this, either, seeing a creature he loved very much laying motionless in a box and headed to be turned into ash.

So with a few more kisses to Bin's face and a promise that they could spread her ashes wherever he wanted to spread them, Dongmin took off, the box beside him in his car as he followed the directions Bin had shakily written out for him.

“You're causing my Binnie a lot of heart-ache,” Dongmin told the box. “Why did you have to die? I thought we were a happy family finally, and then...” He sighed loudly and put on his turn signal to switch lanes. “Why am I talking to a dead animal?”

If Nancy wasn't dead, though, Bin would still be happy. As it was, he looked as if he'd be upset for the next few days, which meant Dongmin would have to watch his boyfriend burst into tears at random times and try to _act_ like he was fine when he clearly wasn't.

Dongmin was helpless to Bin's despair, and he hated it.

“You're not going to _stay_ dead,” he mumbled to the box as he preformed a quick U-turn. “How dare you die in the first place, but I will _not_ allow you to stay dead.”

And some minutes later, he found himself entering the bakery once again, the box in his hands.

Minhyuk recognized him and stared with wide eyes. “Is that...?” he whispered, and he motioned his hand slicing across his throat.

“Dead?” Dongmin responded, then nodded. “Yes.”

Minhyuk cleared his throat and looked around the dining area of the bakery. A few people were eating there now, so Minhyuk had to quietly gesture for Dongmin to come behind the register. “You're that weirdo from yesterday.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know we work with dead creatures? Are you with the government?”

“No. Myungjun knows me, though, I promise.”

Minhyuk still didn't look convinced, but he opened the back door regardless. “Myungjun, you have an-”

Minhyuk cut himself off just as Dongmin got a look at what was taking place.

There was a blond guy with earrings and glasses, one hand holding a box and the other stuck down Myungjun's back pocket. From the way his hand was positioned, Dongmin instantly recognized the signs of groping. Myungjun, for his part, looked incredibly confused, eyes wide as he glanced over at Minhyuk.

Dongmin's gaze focused solely on the blond man, however, and he scrunched up his nose, quickly peeking into his mind to ensure this wasn't some form of sexual assault.

Fortunately, it didn't _appear_ to be anything other than raunchy flirting, and the blond man tore his hand away, seeming incredibly humiliated to have been caught in such a position. He bowed as greeting (or as an apology, though it could have been both) before shoving past Dongmin and Minhyuk and hurrying out the door.

Myungjun was still trying to compose himself as Dongmin settled his box on the table in front of him.

How was he supposed to introduce himself, though? Minhyuk had closed the door as Myungjun was fixing his hair and clearing his throat – should he just say it outright?

But maybe Myungjun would desire proof that Dongmin was who he said he was, so Dongmin murmured, “His thoughts were...rather dirty, if you wanted to know.” When Myungjun glanced at him in confusion, Dongmin smiled. “Ah, but yours are, too.”

“What are you, a mind reader?” Myungjun scoffed.

Dongmin beamed – even if Myungjun had been sarcastic, it was the perfect way to re-introduce himself to his old friend. “Yup. And it's nice to see you again, Kim Myungjun, Necromancer-Who-Lived-Down-The-Street.”

Recognition seemed to crawl into Myungjun's eyes, and he clapped his hands together, returning Dongmin's smile. “Dongmin! That doctor kid! Lee Dongmin! Seriously, it's you? Wow, you grew...tall! Handsome, even, which is a big change from that ugly, weird kid down the street from me.”

He should have known Myungjun was going to be the same. “And you haven't grown a bit,” he retorted, and then gestured over to Myungjun's much-shorter stature.

“God, you're an eyesore.” Myungjun opened the lid to the box and winced when he noticed the dead dog. “Is this your pet?”

“My boyfriend's pet, actually,” Dongmin responded.

“You have a boyfriend?”

Dongmin was proud to have the chance to mention _boyfriend_ , so he nodded his head cheerfully and took a seat in the only available chair. As Myungjun carefully pulled the dead dog out of the box, he said, “And you probably will soon, too, from the looks of it. As a mind reader, you can trust me when I say that short, blond guy _really_ likes you, Myungjun.” Myungjun blushed and began to work his magic, and Dongmin took his silence as an opportunity to continue. “He also liked, uh, the position that you two were in before I came.”

“He likes my butt, is what you're trying to get at.”

“Yes.”

“I like _his_ butt, Dongmin.”

“Yes, I've gathered that much.”

“I'm going to find a way to grope _his_ butt, Dongmin.”

“You really don't have to say all of your thoughts out loud, please, especially at our first meeting in over ten years.”

Myungjun giggled, the familiar blue glow lighting up over Nancy's body as the necromancer applied his focus to the dog. “What have you been up to, anyway, Dongmin? Did you become a doctor yet?”

Dongmin smiled. “Not exactly. I, um...I told my mother what I was.”

Myungjun glanced up at him. “And?”

“She didn't take it well.” Dongmin rolled his sleeve up to display the long scar that traveled down his arm.

Myungjun winced before lowering his attention back to Nancy. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I know she never liked magic users, but I didn't assume-”

“It's alright,” Dongmin interrupted, leaning back in his chair and allowing his sleeve to cover the scar once more. “I am a lot happier now. I actually work as a detective and I just got transferred over here. My boyfriend and I are still unpacking, but...I figured his dog takes precedence.”

“Can't believe you got yourself a boyfriend. You were always a stick in the mud.”

“Thanks, Myungjun.”

“Yeah.” Myungjun was quiet for a few seconds before muttering, “So, uh, so Jinwoo really likes me?”

“Jinwoo?”

Myungjun nodded towards the closed door, where the blond guy had escaped from just moments before. “The, um...the guy touching my, uh, my butt.”

Dongmin grinned. “I don't think he'd be doing that if he didn't like you, Myungjun. Is he a regular customer here?”

“Oh, yeah. He always needs plants to fix up for his potions and-”

Dongmin lost his grin and Myungjun cut himself off awkwardly, clearing at his throat and refusing to meet Dongmin's sharp gaze. “For, uh, for his...his home. Home remedies! He makes home remedies, he's not, oh, _god_ , Dongmin, please don't read my mind.”

But it was too late for that. Dongmin had already taken the plunge and learned that Myungjun was trying to cover up the fact that Jinwoo was a witch. Dongmin took a deep breath and whispered, “Myungjun, you're in love with a _witch_?”

Myungjun swallowed thickly. “He's a nice witch, Dongmin. He just makes potions and minds his own business and – he's trustworthy, I promise.”

“Witches aren't trustworthy.”

“ _He_ is.”

“It could turn on you-”

Myungjun huffed. “He's not an _it_ , Dongmin, he's a person.” He stuck his lower lip out in a pout as he continued working his own magic. “Please, Dongmin, please pretend you never heard me say anything about...about it. Please pretend you didn't read my mind, just pretend you don't _know_ he's a witch, okay? He's harmless and sweet and I _need_ him.”

Dongmin hesitated for a few seconds before nodding his head, fueled by the desperate tone in Myungjun's voice, but when he headed home with a cheerful, healthy Nancy, he couldn't help but feel despair wash over him.

Bin was shocked to see his dog alive and well, and he cried for a while, sobbing into her fur, “I thought you were dead, I'm so sorry for making the appointment!”

“She was dead,” Dongmin mumbled, sitting down next to his boyfriend on their kitchen floor. “Remember...remember my friend Myungjun?”

He didn't have to say anymore for Bin to look up at him with a gasp. Nancy licked at the tears that had trailed down Bin's cheeks. “You found him?”

“He works with that cashier at the bakery. Remember Minhyuk's mother? The lady beside Myungjun's mom?” When Bin nodded, Dongmin sighed, “Minhyuk is there. They're both here.”

Bin rubbed at Nancy's fur, still a little confused. “Well...that's great, isn't it? Why do you look so upset? Didn't you want to find him?”

Dongmin bit his lip and then leaned his head into Bin's shoulder. Bin instantly began running his fingers through Dongmin's hair.

“He's in love with the witch we're supposed to kill,” Dongmin muttered.

“You read his mind?”

“I _saw_ the witch. He was...groping Myungjun, really, it was gross, but I read his mind and he really likes Myungjun and Myungjun really likes him, and I _can't_ just kill off my best friend's love interest, Binnie.” Dongmin rubbed a hand at his tired eyes. “I don't know what to do.”

Bin took a deep breath before hugging both Dongmin and Nancy close to him. “We'll figure it out,” he whispered, planting a kiss on Dongmin's cheek. “We'll figure out some sort of solution.”

But the only solution Dongmin could think of to ensure a happy ending for Myungjun would be to ignore his orders and keep Jinwoo alive and well.

He wished he couldn't read minds. He wished he never knew who Jinwoo was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST KIDDING, NOT RIP NANCY! rip jinwoo tho.
> 
> it's cooler for the rest of the week but im still buying a new fan, so send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) to be helpful in my quest to stay cool for the summer.


	19. nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But there he was, crying and wailing over Jinwoo's lifeless form as he struggled desperately to make the powers work. He spoke, too, every so often, perhaps comforting himself, perhaps trying to allow his words of affection speed up the process somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip jinwoo, like i said

Dongmin tried to push it out of his mind for now. The chief hadn't been making him _actively_ look for the witch, and if he could somehow talk to Myungjun and convince him to make Jinwoo stay good and quiet, perhaps then they wouldn't need a reason to even go after him. Still, his sleep continued to be rudely awoken by the thought of actually being forced to choose between his career – his _livelihood_ – and his friendship with Myungjun. Obviously, friendship won over career any day, but at the same time, Dongmin couldn't help but wonder how he would become branded if people figured out he was protecting a witch.

It caused headaches and made him a little more snappish towards his new coworkers than usual.

“Detective Lee?”

Dongmin rubbed at his face and ignored Bin's concerned gaze. “What is it, Officer Yoon?” he mumbled.

It was clear that the policeman in front of him had important information – Dongmin didn't _want_ important information, though. He wanted small, petty crimes to solve, things that were completely safe and didn't involve using too much of his magic to figure out. He was easily exhausted now, and he didn't think he _could_ use that much magic.

“Um, we have some boys in one of the conference rooms. Two of them, they...I know it sounds rather ridiculous, but they claimed they killed a witch.”

Dongmin's head shot up and he stared at Officer Yoon with wide eyes. “They what?”

Officer Yoon cleared his throat and fumbled with the glasses on his face. “They...killed a witch?”

Horror gripped at Dongmin's heart, and he glanced over at Bin, who looked equally shocked. There was only one witch that Dongmin knew of: Jinwoo.

“Oh, _god_ ,” he fussed as he hurried up from his seat. He heard Bin's footsteps behind him, heavy on the ground and trying to keep up.

Dongmin flung open the doors to the conference room, where the chief sat with two boys, probably no younger than Dongmin himself. All parties in the room looked rather confused with Dongmin's sudden arrival, but Dongmin chose not to address it. When Bin finally came up behind him, Dongmin closed the doors and took a deep breath to compose himself.

“I, um, I heard something interesting from Officer Yoon,” Dongmin murmured to the chief. “And I came to confirm that it was true, considering Bin and I both have experience in dealing with witches, and-”

“According to what these boys say,” the chief interrupted, “-it is true. You can, um, retell your story.” The chief motioned for the boys to speak, and the one who appeared slightly older started to talk.

“Well, we were minding our own business at first and then we saw this guy performing this spell on a little girl. I'm pretty sure he was trying to control her, like that one did in the Gangnam District-”

“Mm _hmm_ ,” Dongmin's lips were tight as he took a seat next to the chief.

The boy blinked before clearing his throat. “Yeah, you...you were the detective on that case, weren't you? That's...that's what the tall police officer told me.”

“Just continue,” Bin mumbled, recognizing Dongmin's patience dwindling away.

“Right. So, he was trying to control this little girl – she was just a child, wasn't she?” He looked at his partner, who nodded his head, and, once again, he continued, “And so we pushed him away from her. His spell was broken and he tried doing a spell on us, but we managed to dodge it, so I guess he decided to run. But we knew he was going to hurt more people, so we followed him into an alleyway and when we caught up to him, he turned on us. It was self-defense, really, us stabbing him.”

“What did you stab him with?” Dongmin asked.

The boys glanced sheepishly at each other before one pulled out a knife, hidden away in his clothing. It was bloodied, which made Dongmin's heart race.

“What the hell are you doing with a switchblade?” Bin snapped as he examined the weapon. “I'm pretty sure having one this length is illegal, anyway, so are you seriously admitting to-”

“Detective Moon, please.” The chief shushed him and carefully took the knife away. “So you stabbed him with this, and then what?”

The boy cleared his throat. “He... fell over. He's dead now. We left his body in the alleyway. I mean, we were worried about calling the police at first because of the knife, but we decided it was easier to come show you guys.”

It was quiet in the room for a few seconds as the chief jotted down some notes and Dongmin fumed silently to himself.

“What did he look like?” Bin was the first to break the silence.

With a small chuckle, the boy mumbled, “We...only remember he had blond hair, and he was shorter than both of us.”

“His body is still there, like you said,” the younger boy exclaimed, “-just in case you don't believe us.”

Dongmin didn't believe them; rather, he didn't _want_ to believe them. He peered into the mind of the older boy, however, and found the general basis of their words to be true – they _did_ kill Jinwoo (though they chased him down with no provocation, just as Dongmin expected). They killed the man that Myungjun had finally found comfort in, and Dongmin wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now.

He ran a hand through his hair before standing from his seat. “Tell Officer Yoon to mark the knife as evidence, and place it on my desk. I'll look at it when I get back.”

“Where are you going?” the chief questioned.

“I'm going to go ensure the body is there and that they're telling the truth,” Dongmin stated. “For all we know, it could be an innocent human that they just murdered.”

“It was a witch!” the older boy retorted angrily. “I swear, he was doing magic! He had this dead flower in his hands, too, it was all shriveled up, and witches make _potions_ -”

“So do healers,” Dongmin pointed out.

The chief shrugged. “Either way, that's one less magic user,” he mumbled, and Dongmin bit harshly at his lip. Bin gently placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him down silently, and Dongmin had to try and reign in his temper once again.

“Regardless, I need to make sure. I'll check for the flower, too, and if it's there, I suppose we can lay this issue to rest.”

Before he left, though, he heard one of the boys ask, “Are we able to get some sort of reward for killing a witch?” And, unfortunately, he also heard the chief discussing the amount of payment they would receive as gratitude.

Bin didn't say a thing as he followed Dongmin out to his car. He seemed to understand Dongmin's internal struggle.

“They killed Jinwoo,” Dongmin angrily muttered the moment he started his car. “Bin, they _killed_ Jinwoo.”

Bin swallowed thickly and glanced out the window as they drove. “Dongminnie, you didn't even know him.”

“I read his mind. I _knew_ he was going to treat Myungjun well, and do you know how much Myungjun adored him? I offered us up for a double date-”

“I wish you would ask me first-”

“-and Myungjun was so excited. He's been through so much shit in his life, and now _this_?” Dongmin didn't even care if he was speeding slightly, swerving in and out of lanes in order to arrive at the alleyway faster. “Binnie, what the hell am I supposed to do? I was supposed to protect Jinwoo-”

“No, you weren't.” Bin sighed and rubbed at Dongmin's arm as he drove. “We were supposed to _kill_ Jinwoo. And someone else got to him first, and that's probably better, because now _we_ don't have to be the ones to do it.”

Dongmin glanced over at his boyfriend. “But-”

“Dongmin, he was going to die either way. It's better he didn't die from your hands.”

And as much as Dongmin hated to think it, he supposed that was true. _He_ didn't kill Jinwoo. He wasn't the one with Jinwoo's blood on his hands. But still-

“I wanted Myungjun to be as happy with someone as I am with you. He deserves it.”

Dongmin had arrived at the location and parked his car. He turned off the headlights before glancing over at Bin in desperation. “Bin, he was the only _real_ friend I had growing up. He was the only person who truly cared about me, despite knowing what I was. I don't want his happiness to be taken from him.”

Bin didn't understand. Why should he? Bin didn't know what it was like to be cast out for something he couldn't even control. And Dongmin was ready to give up on trying to explain why he longed for Jinwoo to _not_ be dead, why he longed for Jinwoo and Myungjun to stay together, but then Bin spoke.

“My happiness was almost taken from me,” he murmured. “I had to watch...I had to watch you get shot. I had to watch as that witch _choked you_ , and you almost died for a second time.” He sighed and opened his door. “And I wouldn't wish that on your friend, no matter what Jinwoo was. But he's dead. You said you read their minds, you said they _killed_ Jinwoo – we don't have any choice but to go along with the rest of the police department.”

Bin was level-headed in a situation where Dongmin was quite the opposite. It was something different, but Dongmin was so thankful that he wasn't going through this dilemma all by himself. Even if the outcome was something terrible, at least he could face it with Bin.

So, with a deep breath, he, too, climbed out of his car and they began to trudge up the alleyway.

Bin went slightly ahead, holding Dongmin's hand behind him. “I'll check first,” he murmured, “-and then we can call the cops or...or the government, depending on if he's dead or-”

“He's dead, Binnie. I saw it.” Dongmin knew how defeated he sounded, and Bin passed him an anxious glance.

“I know,” the younger boy murmured, and Dongmin felt a lump in his throat. How was he supposed to explain this to Myungjun? How was he supposed to explain that two boys killed the man he loved, that the police would _reward_ them because it was _one less witch in the world_? How could Myungjun continue after everything that had happened to him, and now _this_ happiness was ripped brutally from his grasp?

“Bin-” Dongmin started, but Bin suddenly shoved Dongmin into the closest nook he could find, the entrance doorway to some house, and Dongmin gave a gasp as he was slammed unceremoniously into the wall. “Bin!”

“Shh!” Bin's eyes were wide as he peered out from behind the corner. “There's two people there.”

Dongmin blinked. “What?”

“I think one is the witch, he has blond hair and he's bloody and dead, but the other one is...”

“Let me see!” Dongmin lightly pushed Bin up against the wall so he could look out himself. Bin was correct; there _were_ two people there, and one was Jinwoo, blood pooled around him, matting in his hair and completely staining his clothes. The other man had his hands outstretched over Jinwoo's body, sobs wracking his shoulders and a blue glow appearing from his palms.

“It's Myungjun!” Dongmin whispered.

“It is?” Bin tried to push at Dongmin. “I want to see!”

“You already saw, just-” He moved his position slightly, and Bin had to bend over in order to get a better view.

“What's he doing?”

“He's...bringing him back to life.” Dongmin had heard Myungjun speak of bringing people back before. Supposedly, it would have taken up far too much power to do so, and Myungjun had mentioned that he would _never_ use his powers for such a purpose.

But there he was, crying and wailing over Jinwoo's lifeless form as he struggled desperately to make the powers work. He spoke, too, every so often, perhaps comforting himself, perhaps trying to allow his words of affection speed up the process somehow.

They heard him confess his love, tearfully, painfully, and Dongmin's heart ached in his chest.

Bin's face was tight as he looked back over at Dongmin, and the elder detective noticed the pity and concern in his gaze. “Dongmin, can't we go help him? Why are we just watching?”

“We can't, because we'll surprise him, and if he loses focus, he'll have to do it all over. And by that time, I think his powers will have exhausted themselves out and he won't be able to start again.” Dongmin leaned against the wall and looked up at the sky. The sun had set and the stars were just beginning to come out, twinkling brightly, cheerfully, overhead.

Dongmin wondered why everything seemed to mock Myungjun's pain.

“I want to help him, Dongmin,” Bin whispered. “Oh, god, what if that was you out there? What if-”

“I'm alive, Binnie.” Dongmin bit at his lip again, which caused Bin to tsk lightly and bring a thumb up to swipe at Dongmin's jaw.

“Don't do that. You'll make yourself bleed.”

Dongmin nodded his head and closed his eyes.

“Are you worried about him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think he can do it?”

Dongmin considered the question for a few seconds before shaking his head. “He gets exhausted very easily. He was tired by the time he finished bringing Nancy back. I don't...I don't know about a _person_. And he mentioned the other night that the more violent the death, the more difficult it is to work his magic.” Dongmin opened his eyes again and peered out over Bin's head, watching as Myungjun nearly collapsed. “He's not going to be able to do it.”

But Myungjun wasn't giving up without a fight, obviously. Even from where he knelt, it was clear he was swaying, and Dongmin wondered if he was about to faint. He wondered if Myungjun had come so far only to lose his consciousness, thus losing Jinwoo for good.

“I think he can do it,” Bin murmured.

“Why's that?”

“I don't know.” Bin gave Dongmin a sad smile, then reached down and wrapped their fingers together. “It might sound cliched and silly, but true love makes people do really crazy things. Like...like get shot for someone they love.”

Dongmin looked down at their entwined fingers before meeting Bin's gaze. “Or face off with a witch?”

“Mine doesn't count. I was immune.”

“You didn't know that at the time.”

Bin blushed, his face lit now only by the dim overhead lamp above the doorway, and he rubbed at his nose in slight embarrassment. “Well, yeah, but-”

“Wait.” Dongmin noticed movement, but it wasn't coming from Myungjun this time. Instead, Jinwoo's chest rose suddenly, and a deep gasp of breath was heard from the witch. The blue glow from Myungjun's hands slowly died down until he dropped his arms. Jinwoo spoke then, his voice hoarse and shaky, full of fear and confusion.

“Y-You...actually did it, you did it-”

And then Myungjun fell forward. Bin almost cried out, but Dongmin slapped a hand over his mouth. “He's not hurt,” Dongmin hissed. “Don't say _anything_ , he's exhausted, please don't make noise-”

At least, Dongmin _hoped_ it was just exhaustion that had plagued Myungjun. He hoped that bringing a human back from the dead didn't have any ill side effects.

He looked back over. Myungjun's hands were grasping onto Jinwoo's bloodied shirt, as if begging the witch never to leave him again. And, as Bin and Dongmin watched, Jinwoo wrapped his own arms around Myungjun's body – and then he began to sob.

They were desperate sobs, frightened cries as he held onto the man who had risked everything to bring him back to the world of the living.

“I don't want to die again!”

Dongmin heard the choked words escape through Jinwoo's lips, and he leaned back to the wall again as Myungjun tried comforting him and telling him everything was okay.

Bin joined him after a few seconds, biting at the inside of his cheek and staring at anything _but_ Myungjun and Jinwoo.

“Dongmin?”

“Hmm?”

“I know he's a witch and we shouldn't consider witches to be humans, but...he's human. He's _normal_ , Dongmin, he's scared and hurt and he doesn't know why he's been treated like that. Has he ever done anything-”

“I only read a bit of his mind,” Dongmin muttered. “He just loves Myungjun. He liked touching Myungjun's butt. He was embarrassed I saw him...god, I called him an _it_ to Myungjun's face.”

“Did you?”

Dongmin nodded guiltily before slowly sliding to sit on the ground. Bin squatted next to him, glancing back out at the two magic users laying in the middle of an alleyway, both covered in blood as they held onto each other for dear life. “We can't kill him,” Bin whispered. “Dongmin, we can't call anyone else to come kill him, either. That would be like Myungjun calling someone on you because you can read minds – we can't do that. He's normal, Dongmin. I don't care if he's a witch, but he's _harmless_ , and he just- he's crying, Dongmin. He's a witch and he's crying and he's scared.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

Dongmin looked up tiredly at his boyfriend. The last time he had seen such worry in his eyes was when he had been in the hospital. Dongmin grabbed Bin's hand for a second time. “Let's wait for them to leave,” he responded. “One of these houses is bound to have a hose out back. We'll wash the pavement down, call the chief, and tell him that...that government members came and took Jinwoo's body away.”

“And then...?”

“And then it'll be over. According to everyone, the witch will be dead. We won't have to keep hunting for it, and then Jinwoo can live peacefully.”

Bin seemed to agree, if his satisfied smile was anything to go by. They waited for a while longer until Jinwoo and Myungjun had finally been able to stand, and they waited until the two magic users were able to part from each other.

They cleaned relentlessly, using old sponges near another house to scrub down the pavement and wash away any sign of blood. “They won't be able to trace it back to Jinwoo this way,” Dongmin had murmured, moving about quietly in order to ensure none of the neighbors saw them using their gardening equipment to clean up a crime scene.

“That was probably illegal,” Bin blurted out the moment they climbed into the car, having finished explaining to the chief over the phone about the _new_ version of events they had made up.

“You're the one who drove drunk once.”

“Twice.”

“Twice?” Dongmin glanced over at Bin who stared with wide eyes.

“I thought you knew about the second-”

“Don't tell me.” Dongmin began to drive them back to the station, trembling hands gripping onto the steering wheel. He wasn't sure when he would be able to remove the sight of Myungjun crying over Jinwoo's dead body from his mind. “If I don't know, I can't use it against you.”

Bin seemed to agree, if his silence was anything to go by. Though, like Dongmin, Bin _could_ have been trying to wipe the memory of the night's events from his own brain. Dongmin didn't blame him. It had been incredibly rough to watch his best friend have to deal with the death of someone close, the death that no one else would ever care about.

In fact, as Dongmin and Bin entered the police station, maybe it wasn't that people didn't _care_ , but that they cared a different way than they should. People were laughing, talking loudly, congratulating the two young boys still there for engaging such a dangerous creature and for saving the rest of the city from having to deal with that. The boys looked ecstatic to be part of such praise, and they embellished the story the more they were asked to describe the situation.

Dongmin and Bin snaked around the back of the station, trying to avoid the hustle and bustle of the celebration. Dongmin tried looking for the chief, and when he was unable to find him, he went with the next best option. “Officer Yoon!” he hissed, trying to remain unseen.

The policeman browsed the faces in the crowd before he was finally able to catch Dongmin's eye. “Detective Lee!” he hurried forward and gestured over at the boys. “So I guess it's true?”

“Yeah.” Dongmin cleared his throat, attempting to act nonchalant, as if he _hadn't_ just cleaned up and covered an important crime scene.

(Dongmin had never done anything illegal in his life; he wondered if Bin was taking their rebellious act any better.)

“So, um, the case of the witch is closed, I guess, why can't they just send the two boys home?”

Officer Yoon smiled nervously. “We're...giving them a reward.”

“Of course we are.”

“It's a lot, too. Over three million won, from what I've heard.”

“For killing someone?” Bin snapped.

(Dongmin decided that Bin wasn't taking it any better.)

“Bin,” Dongmin muttered, “it's a witch.”

Bin seemed to remember his place, though, seemed to remember that he was supposed to despise witches, and he cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I...I know. Just – it was a joke,” he assured Officer Yoon. “I didn't get _any_ money for shooting a witch in Seoul.”

“Oh.” Officer Yoon looked slightly uncomfortable, and he shuffled his feet. “I guess...magic users are _really_ not welcome in this world, are they?”

Dongmin finally caught sight of the chief, grinning and shaking the hands of the two boys while passing them a check. “Witches aren't, at least,” Dongmin muttered.

“I don't think any magic users are.”

Dongmin glanced back at Officer Yoon, staring sadly out at the proceedings, before sighing. “Bin and I need to go home,” he muttered. “Tell the chief I'll fill out the reports tomorrow.”

Officer Yoon nodded his head slowly. “Ah, drive safe out there, Dong- sorry, Detective Lee. Watch out for, um...witches, I guess.”

Dongmin wondered why Officer Yoon wasn't nearly as enthusiastic about the case as all of his coworkers were, but before he really got a chance to think it through (and to read Officer Yoon's mind), Bin grabbed his hand gently, offering him a soft smile.

“You can call Myungjun when we get home,” he whispered, “and make sure everything is alright.”

“I can't, because I don't want him to know we saw.” He allowed Bin to drag him back outside. “But I can call Minhyuk at the bakery tomorrow morning. Just...make sure he got home fine and Jinwoo's okay-”

“They'll hear about this, you know,” Bin mumbled, breaking into Dongmin's rambling. “About...about the boys getting a reward for murdering Jinwoo.”

“I know.”

“Can we do something about that?” If Dongmin had thought that breaking the law was too much for Bin, he was wrong. A determined glint shone in Bin's eyes as he stared back at the senior detective, and his willingness to risk his job in order to ensure the well-being of Myungjun and Jinwoo brought a smile to Dongmin's face.

“I think we can.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT RIP JINWOO, HE IS ALIVE, WHO SAW THAT ONE COMING????
> 
> this is going to be 21 chapters because i tried to pack _way_ too much into this one chapter. a LOT of stuff was supposed to happen, but i really couldn't just be like, "they waited for jinwoo to come back then they cleaned it up," bc how boring would that be? no i need to insert some lame attempt at emotion in there somehow.
> 
> (fyi, officer yoon? not sanha. RELATED tho. coughsFATHERcoughs)
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) bc my cat scratched up my arm again and i look like i've been to a knife battle. idk what money will do to help, but i can buy, like, more band-aids, i've been using a lot recently, why is my cat mean.


	20. twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, we're not doing number one,” Dongmin mumbled, and he took Bin's pen away, crossing out 'set their house on fire'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter could also be called: dongmin will set someone's dorm on fire if he doesn't get drugs.

Dongmin watched the channels flip by, snippets of various news programs and dramas shown here and there, though he didn't really pay too much attention. Beside him sat Myungjun, babbling nonsense about lord knows what, remote control held out in front of him as he scrunched his nose in distaste and commented something that sounded like, “Why is there never anything good on at this time?” Bin sat on one of the dining room chairs, still visible from the living room, occasionally shooting Myungjun worried glances.

(Dongmin wasn't sure if the worried glances was because Myungjun was a necromancer, or because he had brought a witch back from the dead some days ago, or because Nancy was plastered to his side and staring up at him as if he was her savior – which, technically, he was.)

“You don't have to watch television,” Dongmin stated as he sipped his beer. “You can just talk, you know.”

“I think I've talked to you about everything I can,” Myungjun responded, and he paused in his channel surfing to smile widely at Dongmin. “What else did you want to discuss?”

Dongmin shrugged his shoulders. He had been trying to figure out if Myungjun ever _wanted_ to discuss Jinwoo's death, and the fact that he had _finally_ brought a human back from the dead, something he had promised once before he would never do. Though, he did understand Myungjun's reluctance to insert that into their conversation; it was taboo, overcoming death with the use of magical powers, and Dongmin _did_ work for the police.

“You know you can't really hide stuff from me, Myungjun,” Dongmin muttered.

Myungjun cleared his throat and turned his gaze to Bin. “Dongmin calls you Binnie,” he announced, completely ignoring Dongmin.

“I know. I'm sort of close to him,” Bin responded smartly.

“You're not helping me, _Binnie_ ,” Myungjun snapped, then pointed over at Dongmin. “Are you just going to let him read my mind? I have secrets I need to keep from the police, you know.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't one of those secrets hiding the fact that you're a necromancer?”

Bin smiled as Myungjun scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Obviously I'm not a necromancer. That's stupid. Isn't that stupid, Nancy?” He gave the dog a pet, and she looked up at him adoringly. “It's not like I brought you back to life or anything, is it? I'd _never_ do that, what a bad, bad thing to do in this world.”

“I never got to personally thank you for that, anyway.” Bin nodded his head toward Myungjun. “So, uh, thanks.”

Perhaps heartfelt gratitude wasn't Myungjun's thing. Or, maybe it was, maybe it was something he enjoyed, but, regardless, he blushed lightly and kept his eyes trained on the dog. “Yeah,” he murmured. “No problem. Thanks for being cool with...who I am.”

“First and foremost, you're Dongmin's friend, so if he's cool with you, I am, too.”

Dongmin smiled proudly as Myungjun's blush deepened. The older man reached out for his beer, fumbling with the cold can before popping it open. The channel Myungjun had landed on played, some newscaster going over current events, and Dongmin was just about to speak when he heard the newscaster state, “We have some breaking news about information concerning a witch in this area. Just mere days ago, two young boys had claimed to have killed a witch. The police department just confirmed the story-”

Bin's eyes widened as he looked over at the television set, and Dongmin cursed in his head. He had specifically asked the chief earlier to stay silent on the matter – personal reasons involved protecting both Myungjun and Jinwoo from being subjected to such a thing, though he claimed to the chief it was to keep the public blissfully unaware of a witch living among them. The news announcement really couldn't have come at a worse time, and when Dongmin glance at Myungjun, he saw the look of horror on the man's face.

“-the boys have been given rewards for murdering it, according to the police chief, but the department would like to remind everyone that witches are _extremely_ dangerous-”

“Myungjun, give me the remote.” Dongmin grabbed at it and was easily able to snatch it out of Myungjun's hands. He quickly turned the television off.

It was silent in the apartment, save for the thumping of Nancy's tail as she rubbed her face into Myungjun's knee.

Bin stared helplessly at Myungjun, who was now biting on his bottom lip. Dongmin definitely didn't miss the quivering of his chin.

“Myungjun-”

“Di-Did you know?” Myungjun asked, his voice hushed as he looked up at Dongmin. “Before...before you read my mind, did you _know_?”

Dongmin hesitated before nodding sullenly.

“Did you know it was Jinwoo?”

He swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

He certainly felt as if he deserved the look of betrayal on Myungjun's face. After all, both he _and_ Bin worked for the police department. They _knew_ of the reward money and of the fact that the two boys were being celebrated.

(And Dongmin knew that Myungjun and Jinwoo had nightmares of that evening, had been unsure about going anywhere without the other, had been jumpy and nervous around anyone they met – Myungjun's mind revealed painful moments in their lives, and Dongmin had no idea how to remedy that.)

Myungjun stood quickly from his seat, exciting Nancy, who seemed unaware of the tense atmosphere. “Why are you giving them reward money?” Myungjun asked desperately, his eyes searching for answers. “Why – why are they being _celebrated_? Do you _know_ what they-they did to him?” Myungjun took a deep, shuddering breath, and his voice was shrill as he continued, “I had to watch him _die_ , an-and they get _rewarded_ for it?”

“Neither of us had any say in it,” Bin quickly assured Myungjun, his eyes wide and alert as he stared. “And we _told_ them to keep it quiet, I promise, we tried to make sure they wouldn't speak, but-”

Myungjun was crying at this point. A few tears rolled down his cheeks and he tried taking deep breaths, but they came out in short gasps, and he sat back down again when it became too much.

Bin, obviously fueled to act on kindness and compassion when he noticed despair, hurried forward and knelt down in front of Myungjun. “Nancy, move for a second,” he commanded, but Myungjun shook his head.

“I-I like Nancy here,” he stammered out.

Bin glanced at Dongmin, who sat there helplessly. He wasn't sure how to offer comfort, other than promising things he wasn't sure he could fulfill. And, really, Myungjun was right. Maybe he should have worked harder in ensuring the police station's silence on the matter. Maybe he should have focused more on damage control rather than finding ways to get back at the boys.

(Though, in this case, revenge was the best option – at least, Dongmin's boiling blood reminded his brain of that, reminded his brain that Myungjun should _never_ have to suffer through such a thing, not when he was simply a bright spot in an otherwise dark world.)

“Myungjun-” Bin started, reaching out to lightly pat Myungjun's arm. “We'll figure it out. I promise I won't let those two get away with it.”

“Wha-What can _you_ do?” Myungjun asked pitifully, and he wiped a sleeve across his nose. “You bo-both work for the police department. You're _supposed_ to celebrate the death of...of _witches_. Didn't y-you kill a witch back in Seoul?”

Bin shifted uncomfortably. “She was going to kill Dongmin if I didn't,” he quietly defended himself.

“Jinwoo couldn't kill _anyone_!” Myungjun cried out. “He's _nice_ , he doesn't mean to be a witch, h-he can't help what he was born as, though!” Myungjun grasped onto Bin's hands, tearful eyes searching desperately for answers. “I don't wa-want him to deal with this. What if he's seen it, what if he _knows_ they get money f-for stabbing him?”

Dongmin couldn't take watching his best friend fall apart like that. With a new surge of anger, he rose from his seat and ushered for Bin to scramble aside. “Myungjun-hyung, let me take you home,” he offered. “I think it's best if you're with Jinwoo right now.”

Myungjun blinked, then nodded. “I-I haven't seen him in two hours. I told him – I said I wouldn't be gone f-for long.” His legs were shaky when he stood up again, but his tears, at least, seemed to be drying up. “Thank you for letting me come over, e-even if it wasn't that much fun because I ruined it-”

“You didn't ruin anything,” Dongmin assured. “If someone ruined it, it was those two boys. But, like Bin said, we're going to figure it out. Neither Bin nor I want to see those boys get away with murder.”

“It's not murder if it's a witch,” Myungjun blurted out. His face was red and splotchy, and he rubbed at his cheeks to rid himself of his tears. “That's...that's what everyone always says.”

Dongmin opened the door. “Jinwoo is Jinwoo,” he responded. “He just happens to have certain abilities. So they murdered _Jinwoo_ , not a witch.”

The words seemed to comfort Myungjun, if even slightly. He bid Bin a farewell before following Dongmin to his car.

The ride to Myungjun's apartment was a quiet affair, the older boy's sniffling cutting through whatever song was playing on Dongmin's radio. Neither of them spoke until Dongmin had parked just in front of Myungjun's apartment.

A potted plant rest outside Myungjun's door, but the flower inside was dead. Myungjun sighed at it, then murmured, “Jinwoo can't keep flowers alive. He's a terrible witch.”

Dongmin already knew, but he said nothing about that.

“Can you and Jinwoo take some time off of work and go somewhere else?”

Myungjun stared at him for a few seconds. “Where?”

“I'm not sure. I just think it might be best if you two have a small vacation of some sorts. Just...just to get away from everything going on here.” Surely it wouldn't be on any form of _national_ news; at least, hopefully it wouldn't. If Myungjun and Jinwoo could just escape all of the celebrations, perhaps they would both feel better.

Myungjun nodded his head slowly. “I can try. Minhyuk can probably man the bakery portion by himself for a bit. If...if we do leave, can you check up on him every so often?”

“Yeah.”

Myungjun smiled nervously, then climbed out of the car. Before he could close the door, however, Dongmin added, “I visited your parents, Myungjun.” The boy froze, staring at him with wide eyes. “They miss you a lot. They...they want you to come visit.”

And nothing more was spoken. Myungjun's lips tightened and he closed the door, hurrying inside his apartment (and grabbing the dead plants along the way). Dongmin truly hoped Myungjun would keep his words in mind, and perhaps he _would_ visit his family.

More importantly for Dongmin at the moment, however, was figuring out what sort of revenge to have. And Bin was extremely helpful in that regard.

“I've written down several plans!” was the first thing Bin announced when Dongmin arrived back at their place. “I know you said you read their minds and only discovered a few things, but I think some of that information can be helpful to us!” He displayed a notebook with scribbled writing, and Dongmin looked it over.

“Well, we're _not_ doing number one,” he mumbled, and he took Bin's pen away, crossing out _set their house on fire_.

“That's fair,” Bin responded. “How about number two?”

“Give them a pie filled with spiders? Are you going to bake that one, Binnie?”

Bin pouted. “Fine. Not number two. But you didn't give me _much_ to go off on, except they had been to Gangnam recently and they lived in a dorm together.”

Dongmin scanned the list for any good ideas, though the majority of them seemed rather ridiculous. “I think,” he muttered, “most of these are illegal.”

“Cross out the illegal ones, then.”

And Dongmin set about doing so, hopeful that they could narrow their list of nefarious ideas by the end of the evening. However, one actually caused him to hesitate, and he asked, “What about number fourteen?”

Bin peered over to stare at the sheet. “Oh. Yeah. Put illegal drugs in their backpacks somehow, then invite them over to the police department. Sorry, I just thought...I mean, they've been in Gangnam recently, and you know...we can cross it out.”

He must have taken Dongmin's silence as a bad thing, but Dongmin grabbed his arm. “No, wait. I think...we might be able to get this one to work out.”

“Seriously?”

Dongmin nodded his head. “It's illegal, more so than anything else we've done, but if I can get my hands on some drugs, and if we can somehow sneak it in their apartment, this one might work.” He read over the notes that Bin had written underneath, then pointed at one. “What's this? _Shapeshifter_?”

“That was my idea for getting the drugs into their apartment. I scoped their place out the other day and figured out they keep the window open, since they're pretty far up on the top of the building. A shapeshifter can maybe turn into a bird and put the drugs right into their backpacks without them noticing.”

Dongmin sighed. “Well, the only issue is the fact that we don't know any shapeshifters, certainly not any who would be willing to-”

“Myungjun's neighbor is a shapeshifter.” Bin grinned widely. “His name is Sanha and he turned into a roach when I had gone over to grab your glasses the other night.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“The whole deal with the reward money for murder got me sort of on edge. Plus the fact that we have multiple lies already going, I'm really struggling with figuring out what I'm supposed to keep secret these days.” Bin flopped down on the couch, motioning for Dongmin to do the same. “I figured this shapeshifter, Sanha, must be pretty close to Myungjun to be able to turn into a bug in front of him. If we can somehow get the drugs, we can convince Sanha to fly up as a bird into their dorm room, maybe while they're asleep, and he stuffs it into the backpack. I'll offer him payment, or something, I don't know. Then we invite the murderers over to the police department – call them up in the afternoon when they're in classes, since they're university students, and they come with their backpacks, and we catch them in the act!”

Dongmin sat next to Bin, staring over at the notebook rather intently. “A lot of pieces have to fall perfectly into place for this to work out,” he murmured. “Even if we _do_ convince Sanha to join us, though, what about the drugs?”

“I didn't think that far.”

They contemplated where they could get their drugs from all night, and by the time they finally curled up on each other in bed, they were no less closer to figuring it all out, as they had both promised Myungjun.

But a text Dongmin received the following morning gave him a brilliant idea.

“Bin!” he shook his boyfriend awake, smiling brightly as he shoved his cell phone into Bin's face. “Look, it's the chief from Seoul!”

“Congratulations,” Bin mumbled, trying to stuff his head back in his pillow.

Dongmin huffed, then shoved Bin. “Binnie, I think I know where to get drugs from.”

It made sense, and Dongmin wondered why he didn't think of it before. The Gangnam department had been working on drug raids, which the chief had informed him of right before he left. Clearly that meant they would have drugs at that point, and if Dongmin could somehow convince the chief to let him borrow some, the first phase of their plan was already in effect.

“The thing is,” Dongmin explained as he spoke to the chief over the phone, glancing worriedly at Bin. “That, um, not only do I need you to bring me the drugs, but I need to be able to keep them and frame someone else for this crime.”

The chief was silent for a few seconds before asking, “Did a witch take you over? Why are you trying to do something illegal?”

“It's just to help out a friend,” Dongmin responded, his sweaty hand gripped desperately at the phone. If this didn't work, they might have to go back to plan number one, and Dongmin wasn't sure how he could burn down a dorm room without burning down the entire dorm building.

“You're helping out a friend by framing some boys for possessing drugs?”

“Yes, thank you for understanding.”

“I don't understand a thing.” The chief sighed loudly into the phone. “You're really asking me to drive all the way to Boryeong with drugs that we've already gathered from another crime scene, and then help you stage a new crime?”

“You don't have to stay after you give me the drugs,” Dongmin corrected.

“That makes me feel a lot better. Is Bin there?”

“He is.”

“And you two live together?”

“We do.”

“Are you happy?”

Dongmin looked over at Bin, at the tension clearly displayed on his face, his eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes narrowed over at the phone held to Dongmin's ear. “We'd...both be happier if we were able to help our friend and put these two men in jail, where they belong.”

The chief cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Your friend...is it a witch?”

When Dongmin didn't respond, the chief sighed again. “I can't believe you've befriended a witch. It's that witch that was supposedly killed over there, isn't it?” Again, Dongmin offered no response and no explanation. “I'm helping you guys get revenge on the boys who killed a witch? They're being celebrated, rightfully so, I don't-”

“He's a nice witch,” Dongmin assured. “He's weak and harmless. _Please_ , chief, I promise I won't ever ask you for anything and...and you can stay the evening with me and Binnie!”

“I can?”

“Yes.”

The chief contemplated for a few seconds before announcing, “I'll do it! But only if you cook me a meal and let me use your shower.”

“Done. Thank you, _so much_. I promise, we'll keep it just between us and I won't tell a _soul_ about any of it!”

He made plans to meet with the chief later that day, and when he hung up his phone, Bin grabbed him and pulled him close in a hug. “I can't believe he went for it!” the younger detective laughed cheerfully, and then he began to spread kisses all over Dongmin's face. “You're the best friend _ever_ , probably, you're so sweet, Dongminnie, I just love you so much-”

Despite his nerves acting up as he readied himself to preform an illegal act, Dongmin couldn't help but giggle from all the kisses he was receiving. “I'm doing a _bad_ thing, Binnie, not a good one.”

“I like bad. It's so hot, especially when _you're_ the one doing it.”

Dongmin would have blushed and sputtered, but he was far more interested in returning the kisses and focusing solely on Bin's hands running down his chest.

He was only a _little_ bit late for his meeting with the chief, and only a _little_ bit frazzled and mussed from the previous few hours. “Sorry, I was, um, running a little behind,” was the first thing Dongmin blurted out.

But the chief smirked at him, then motioned for Dongmin to climb inside his car, which he did. Once the doors were shut, the chief whispered, “Nice sex hair.”

“Please don't do this to me now. I just need the drugs.”

“Ah, don't say things like _that_.” The chief frowned as he pulled a white envelope from his jacket pocket. “I don't want to ever hear that you've messed with drugs, save for illegally framing two otherwise innocent boys, okay?”

“Oh, trust me, they are _not_ innocent,” Dongmin murmured as he carefully took the envelope. “They had no reason to murder that witch. I'm just protecting people, which is in my job description.”

“Someone needs to protect _you_ , though.”

“I got Binnie for that.”

“He left a hickey on your neck, and I'm not sure if that's _protection_ -”

Dongmin regretted his decision to allow the chief to stay over at his place. His face was red as he interrupted, “What type of drug is this?”

The chief didn't seem surprised by the interjection. He just leaned back in his seat. “Crystal meth.” And when Dongmin tried to peer inside the envelope, the chief slapped at his hand. “Don't do that! I don't want you looking at _drugs_!”

“I've seen a _lot_ of things I haven't ever wanted to see,” Dongmin replied with a small smile. “Drugs are probably one of the lesser things.”

“Still.” The chief looked uncomfortable as he closed the envelope again. “Let's not look at it, okay? It's in there, and it will definitely get them in trouble if the police come across it. Where's Bin, though? I thought he was part of this plan, as well.”

Dongmin folded the envelope and shoved it into his pocket. “He's trying to convince someone to help us with the plan. We need a shapeshifter to fly into the dorm room and deposit the drugs in their backpack.”

“And you guys know a shapeshifter?” When Dongmin nodded, the chief whined, “I knew I never should've let you guys leave! Now you're allying yourself with all sorts of dangerous magic-users!”

Dongmin cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. He had always assumed the chief _knew_ about his own magic powers. After all, various statements he had made, especially in the last year, seemed to confirm that fact. But he had never gotten confirmation on the chief's knowledge, and so he asked, “Chief, what about me?”

“What about you, Dongmin?”

“Am I dangerous?”

The chief laughed suddenly, loudly, boisterously, and shoved Dongmin's shoulder. “If anyone thinks you're dangerous, I'll show them pictures I took of you when you fell asleep at the office. Drool coming out of your mouth and cheek all squished against-”

“How about I show you our apartment?” Dongmin requested, his cheeks flushed again.

The chief chuckled and started his car, but before he drove off, he added, “You're not dangerous at all, Dongmin. You're normal. Even with your _talents_ , you're normal and perfectly fine.”

Dongmin pretended his voice wasn't wavering as he directed the chief on how to get to his apartment, and he pretended his eyes weren't at all watering as he stared out over the landscape.

(And the chief pretended not to notice, but Dongmin _knew_ he noticed, if the large hug he gave Dongmin when they got out of the car was any indication of that. And then he ruined it by whispering, “You have _two_ hickeys, Dongmin,” and Dongmin wondered, once again, how he was going to survive the night.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE CHAPTER LEFT! next chapter will wrap up this revenge plot and make way for both the Socky and extra Myungjin sequels! 
> 
> all hail the chief
> 
> send me dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) because i have exams in two days and i haven't studied for them at all. idk what the dollar bills will do but at least i'll have money?


	21. twenty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I've decided that I'll gladly give up all of my ambitions and goals if it means I can spend the rest of my life with you.” Bin smiled fondly, then added, “Thankfully, I can have both of those things, but if I were to choose, you would always come out on top.” He closed his eyes once more, snuggling his face into Dongmin's chest, and he quietly mumbled, “But you should know that by now, Dongminnie. It's elementary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter, kabum, hope you guys enjoyed the ride!

“My dad's going to kill me.” Sanha looked over at the envelope in Dongmin's hands with wide eyes, then turned to Bin. “You said we were delivering some extra money to them, not _drugs_!”

When Dongmin shot a glare at his boyfriend, Bin shrugged apologetically. “I had to get you to come one way or another,” he responded to the younger boy, who shuffled nervously where he stood. “Look, you basically won't have any part in this-”

“I'm the one that has to fly up there and stuff _drugs_ in their backpacks!” Sanha exclaimed, and he took a step away from Dongmin and Bin. “I can't do illegal stuff like that! My dad really _will_ kill me, or at least ground me for the rest of my life, and then I'm ruining the lives of these two guys-”

“Think about what they did to Jinwoo, though.”

“I don't even _know_ Jinwoo that well, except he's maybe Myungjun-hyung's boyfriend.”

Dongmin switched tactics. “Think about what they did to Myungjun-hyung, then.” Sanha fell silent as he stared at Dongmin, who continued, “Sanha, we had to watch Myungjun desperately try to bring Jinwoo back from the dead. He was sobbing and wailing and he could barely have his powers hold out for long enough to do it. Just...just imagine seeing someone _you_ love die, and then imagine seeing the murderers celebrated on television.” He could tell that Sanha really _was_ imagining it, though he felt it would be far too invasive to peer into his mind.

Sanha took a deep breath before turning his gaze back down to the envelope. He still looked extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation, but at least he appeared to actually understand the reasoning behind Bin and Dongmin's illegal actions.

“After I do this...you guys won't make me do anything else illegal, will you?” he asked.

Dongmin shook his head quickly. “No. I promise, Sanha, this is the only thing we need for you to do. And it's not even for us; it's for Jinwoo and Myungjun and...and all other magic users in the world like them, like _you_.”

Sanha chewed on his bottom lip, and Dongmin gave a slight _tsk_. “Don't do that,” he scolded gently. “I don't want you to make yourself bleed over this.”

Despite the fact that Sanha was taller than both himself and Bin, Dongmin couldn't help but still view Sanha as a child. He was, basically, but seeing him for the first time, so scared and conflicted, made Dongmin feel a little guilty for dragging him into their mess.

But, he reminded himself, this was really the only way to ensure those two boys stayed in jail, that they didn't get the taste of reward and go after _more_ magic users. Myungjun wasn't going to be able to use his powers to bring back every single magic user that died; likewise, if _Myungjun_ died, then who would be around to bring _him_ back?

“Sanha,” Dongmin started quietly, “I know it's scary and illegal, and I know you could get in trouble if word comes out that we planted it here – but I promise that I'll tell people that we _forced_ you to do this, and I'll do everything in my power to ensure that it just stays between the three of us.”

“And the Gangnam District police chief,” Bin added.

Sanha blinked. “You didn't tell me a police chief knew about it, too.”

“He supplied us with the drugs,” Dongmin responded, not without shooting a glare toward Bin, who smiled sheepishly back at him. “And he won't tell anyone, I assure you of that. He was glad to help out.” _Glad_ might have been a bit of an overstatement, but if it helped in Sanha's decision-making process, then Dongmin was willing to exaggerate a few details.

The young boy finally sighed loudly, and he repeated himself from earlier. “Guys, my dad really _will_ kill me if he finds out I had any part in this.”

“He'll never know a thing.”

“Well, he'll know _something_.” Sanha held a hand out for the envelope, which Dongmin carefully deposited in his palm. Sanha's fingers curled around it tightly as he prepared himself to shift.

“How will he know anything?” Bin asked in confusion.

Sanha closed his eyes. “He's a police officer,” he murmured, and before either of the two boys could say anything, Sanha was gone, replaced instead by a small bird. The envelope was clutched in the bird's feet, and after fluttering around and gaining his bearings, the bird ( _Sanha_ , Dongmin had to remind himself) flew upwards, aiming for that open window.

Bin had gasped when Sanha turned, but then he grabbed onto Dongmin's arm. “His dad's a police officer?”

Dongmin blinked. “I wasn't aware-”

“Who's his dad?”

“I'm not sure. I never read Sanha's mind, simply because it seems unfair to read the mind of someone so innocent and young.” He thought back to all of the police officers he currently worked with, trying to remember their faces, wondering if any of them shared any similarities with Sanha.

Bin, though, was the one who figured it out first, and with a snap of his fingers, he blurted out, “Officer Yoon!”

“Officer Yoon?”

“Sanha's last name is Yoon, he told me that when I grabbed him on his way to school. And I guess it sort of makes sense. Remember the night Jinwoo died and those boys were being celebrated, but Officer Yoon just looked a little upset?”

Dongmin hadn't forgotten that, and it _did_ make sense now. Surely he would be upset seeing how cheerful others were concerning the death of a magic user. Surely he might have envisioned his own son in that position, murdered violently for something he never could have controlled, people laughing and handing out reward money for delivering the death blow.

In any case, Dongmin finally understood Officer Yoon's reluctance to join in on the festivities – and he also understood what a terrible position he had put Sanha in. “Oh my god,” he murmured. “What if Sanha tells on us?”

“If...if he tells on _us_ then he'd be telling on himself,” Bin pointed out, but he looked just as anxious as Dongmin was feeling.

“Worse yet, what if word _does_ somehow get out, and what if we cause Officer Yoon to lose his job? I can handle being fired for my own mistakes, but Officer Yoon hasn't done a thing.”

Bin rubbed at Dongmin's shoulder. “Sanha won't tell,” he mumbled. “Because Sanha seems like a pretty good kid. And...and Officer Yoon will keep his job, as long as _we_ keep all of this secret, too. I mean, we can't even mention to him that we know Sanha is a shapeshifter, okay? I've seen people lose their jobs just because they have a _kid_ who is a magic user.”

Dongmin couldn't help but think that the world sucked, and as the bird flew out of the window and back down to where the two detectives stood, Dongmin wondered if this small piece of justice would do any good when there was so much more wrong happening in the world against magic users.

Sanha shifted back into a human. The envelope was gone from his hands. “It's...in the backpack you described to me.” The young boy cleared his throat. “The blue one?”

“Yeah.” Bin nodded his head proudly at Sanha. “The blue one belongs to the one who had possession of the knife in the first place,” he said. “So he'll hopefully get more time for his drug possession, as he should have gotten for murdering Jinwoo.” When he noticed Sanha didn't look nearly as pleased to have committed a felony, Bin stood on his tip-toes and ruffled at Sanha's messy hair. “Cheer up, Sanha! They deserved to go to prison for murder, didn't they?”

Sanha nodded his head hesitatingly.

“And since they _didn't_ go to prison, we're just trying to figure out some way to _make_ them go. They'll get less time for drugs than they would have for murder, but...” Bin shrugged his shoulders. “I think, at this point, this is the best thing we could do.”

Sanha swallowed thickly, worry clouding his gaze as he whispered, “I won't get in trouble for this at all?”

“I'll make sure you won't. Just keep it to yourself, and Binnie and I will keep it to _our_ selves,” Dongmin responded.

“I can't even tell Myungjun-hyung, or Jinwoo-hyung, or...um...M-Minhyuk-hyung?”

Dongmin remembered having read Minhyuk's mind. He remembered it focused on his next-door neighbor, a tall, goofy kid that Minhyuk had fallen head-over-heels for. And, suddenly, looking up at Sanha's intense blush, he realized that he didn't even have to read Sanha's mind to figure out who _his_ crush was: it was some short, fussy _normal_ baker who lived next door.

It was cute, and Dongmin smiled softly. “Let's not tell Myungjun or Jinwoo, but, um...you can tell Minhyuk, if you need to talk to somebody about it.”

“What?” Bin hissed, then shook his head. “Don't tell _anyone_ -”

“Minhyuk doesn't seem like the sort to spill secrets,” Dongmin responded to his boyfriend's panicked demand. “I mean, he's worked with a necromancer for such a long time, and now he lives with a witch in his house. Does he _really_ seem so untrustworthy?”

Sanha's eyes were wide and eager as he added, “And he keeps it secret that I'm a shapeshifter. He also mentioned that he'd personally go out and kill those boys to deliver justice, but I told him I don't want _him_ to become a murderer, that I like him just being a baker, and he promised he wouldn't kill anyone.”

“See, Bin? He seems like someone who would have actually been of use to us somehow.” Dongmin wondered if he could have included Minhyuk in on the plan. However, it seemed to have gone smoothly enough so far, and so he beamed at Sanha, who offered him a smile right back. “Thank you very much, Sanha. Hopefully the next time you see the boys on the news, it's because they're being taken to jail.”

“Hopefully,” Sanha muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He glanced over at Bin, who had driven him out to the boy's dorm in the first place, and asked, “Can...can you take me home now? Before my mom freaks out-”

“Yeah. We don't need your mom wondering what's going on,” Bin responded. Before he left, however, he gave Dongmin a quick peck on the cheek and said, “So we call them into the station tomorrow, right?”

“Right.” Dongmin smiled at Sanha. “And then we'll catch them with drugs.”

Sanha nodded his head resolutely, which gave Dongmin the confidence that things would work out fine (Sanha's wide-eyed innocence partaking in illegal activity meant if it _didn't_ work, Dongmin would feel guilty for ages).

Fortunately, the boys agreed rather easily to come back to the police station for some more congratulatory messages. They left their classes to do so, and when they arrived, one carrying his blue backpack, Bin bounced lightly on his feet.

“You can leave your backpacks right here,” Dongmin announced before greeting them. “I know those things must be rather heavy.”

The boys trusted him way too much. Dongmin didn't give them any reason to _not_ trust him, however, and he figured he at least had the foresight to act friendly enough with them during the whole ordeal with the reward money, despite having been very resentful of the praise they had received. Once their bags were on the floor near Dongmin's desk, he figured he could start the next phase of his plan.

He led them away from the desk, ever so slightly, and he certainly didn't miss the confusion on the other policemen's faces as Dongmin shook each of the boys' hands, once more congratulating them on such a spectacular display of courage and bravery, and whatever other flattering words he managed to toss in there.

The boys were grinning, and the one who had actually _killed_ Jinwoo replied, “We're on the lookout for other magic users to kill!”

From behind them, Bin was slowly and silently opening the blue backpack. When he heard the boy say those words, he glared at their turned backs and raised his middle finger in their direction. Dongmin resisted the urge to fuss at his boyfriend, and instead just cleared his throat, hopeful Bin would take the hint and get back to work.

“We certainly _need_ less magic users in the world,” Dongmin lied. “However, I do hope you two will manage to remain safe. It wouldn't be good for the heroes of this city to get themselves into trouble they can't get out of.”

Fortunately, he had stalled for just the right amount of time, because just as one of the boys sheepishly muttered that they should get back to classes, Bin found the envelope Sanha had stuffed into the backpack just the day before. “What's this?” he loudly asked, earning himself the attention of several police officers, as well as the two boys.

Neither of them seemed to know what was going on. “Were you going through my backpack?” one of the boys asked accusingly.

“I _wasn't_ , but I did see something hanging out of one of the pockets.” Bin wave the envelope in front of the boys, coming to stand beside Dongmin. “This looks suspicious. What's in here? Money?”

“It's...” The other boy blinked and stared at his partner. “Is that the reward money?”

“No, I kept that at home – hey, why are you opening it?”

Bin was peering inside and he gave a sudden gasp, then stuffed it under Dongmin's nose. “Detective Lee, will you please look at this and inform me what you see in there?” When Dongmin took the envelope, Bin added, “Just confirm my suspicions correct – are these _drugs_?”

There was a small murmur in the station, and the boys stared at Dongmin in alarm as he, too, looked inside of the envelope.

He was a far better actor than Bin was, though, so he stiffly nodded his head, then turned his glare on the murderers in front of him. “This is methamphetamine!” he exclaimed.

“Crystal meth,” Bin helpfully supplied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Even the chief was now paying attention.

The boys began denying the accusations, but when Dongmin ushered for the chief to come look, he, too, confirmed the possession. “This _is_ crystal meth – what on earth are you boys doing with this?”

“They just got back from a trip from _Gangnam_ ,” Bin snapped, sharp eyes staring down on the boys. “And both Dongmin and I worked for the chief down there, as you might recall, and he has recently been having issues with crystal meth. He's done various drug busts and he says college students from around Korea have been traveling down there in order to buy drugs.”

Dongmin nodded his head in agreement. “And I know they had some pictures up at the station at one point, didn't they, Detective Moon? And my memory might be a little fuzzy, but I do believe I might have seen these boys on one of the pictures.”

“We didn't buy this!” one of the boy's denied, looking around at all the harsh gazes put upon him. “I-I swear it!”

“It was in your backpack,” Bin pointed out, still looking very haughty. “And we can probably call the chief to confirm that you two were suspects in the drug busts he was working on.” He glanced at the chief, who seemed conflicted. “Should we cuff them before they can run?”

The chief blinked. “But...they killed a _witch_. Surely that...are we going to jail them for a simple drug crime?”

“Chief,” Dongmin started, “I don't believe this is a simple drug crime, and I think it would be far better for the young people of Korea, who might look up to these two boys, to understand that buying and possessing drugs _is_ a dangerous crime – if we let them get away with it, we'd have to let other people get away with it.”

He prayed the chief would go for that. He understood the chief's infatuation with anyone who was even _remotely_ against magic users, but supporting people who had drugs was probably going too far, especially when all of the other policemen in the room were awaiting his answer.

Finally, the chief sighed, and gestured for two officers to come forward. “Cuff them,” he mumbled, and Bin's eyes lit up in excitement. “And take them down to the waiting cell. I'll...call the chief in Gangnam and we'll figure all of this out. They at least deserve a trial.”

“And I'll be the first one to testify against them,” Bin declared proudly. When Dongmin shoved him lightly, he corrected himself, “Simply because drugs are bad for teenagers to use, and I want to ensure the teenagers of this city remain, um, able-minded enough to...to keep killing off magic users.”

Fortunately for him, the chief was far more concerned with locking up the city's previous heroes than he was in listening to incessant rambling.

Dongmin watched them go, and he tried so hard to hide the smile tugging at his lips. When he felt he could no longer keep his happiness hidden, he grabbed Bin's arm and tugged him down the hallway, to a spot he _knew_ would remain empty while everyone else focused on damage control.

“We did it!” he whispered, and a grin broke out across his face. “Binnie, we actually _did it_! They'll be locked up, or at least discredited, and Myungjun and Jinwoo won't ever have to hear about them again, unless it's because they'll be put in jail!”

Bin gave a celebratory punch in the air, and he kept his voice down as he hissed out, “ _Yes_ , about time they paid for their crimes!”

Dongmin laughed, then leaned forward and kissed Bin's forehead. “I think today was a job well done, Detective Moon.”

“And I have to agree with your observation skills on that, Detective Lee.” Bin returned the forehead kiss, then murmured, “And I'll cook dinner for us tonight, as a nice, quiet celebration, and then we can discuss who we can take revenge on next.”

Bin, it seemed, had plenty ideas on who to take revenge on, if his notebook was anything to go by. When Dongmin took a seat on the couch that evening, ramen noodles in his lap (Bin's definition of cooking, apparently, was stuffing ramen noodles in the microwave), he glanced over Bin's notebook and asked, “Isn't that the one I bought for you _specifically_ for writing down police business?”

“Yes!” Bin exclaimed, and he slurped at some of his noodles.

“This doesn't sound like police business.”

“No, it definitely is. I'm taking revenge on Myungjun because he drank one of my beers the other night-”

“I gave it to him.”

Bin snorted and tossed a pen over to Dongmin. “Then write down your own name and I'll take revenge on you, too.”

Dongmin did as Bin requested, if only to humor him. “How are you going to take revenge on your boyfriend?”

Bin inched closer in his seat. “Well, you've been a bad, _bad_ boy, Dongmin, a _very naughty_ policeman-”

“I don't want to know.” Dongmin decided that humoring Bin was a ridiculous idea, especially when he took into account what Bin would have planned for him, so he crossed his name out again. His cheeks were flushed as he pretended he didn't hear Bin's giggles. “S-So why's the chief on here?”

“Which one?” Bin look over. “I have both of them.” He pointed at his older entry. “The Boryeong police chief is on here because he keeps mentioning that magic users are better off dead, and I automatically hate him for it. _Chief_ is on here because of various reasons, one of which involves him winking at me the moment I woke up – remember, that night he stayed with us – and asking me if ' _you boys had fun last night_ '.” The younger detective snorted into his noodles. “He's so weird. I really hope that he isn't visiting us again.”

Dongmin crossed off the chief's name. “I invited him back in a few weeks.”

“Are you _kidding me_?” Bin groaned and tossed himself backwards on the couch, holding the bowl of noodles above him so that they didn't spill anywhere. “There's only so many innuendos I can take from him.”

“You make plenty of them yourself, though.”

Bin was quiet for a few seconds before scrambling up and looking intently at Dongmin. “You like my innuendos.”

“I don't know where you got that-”

“You always blush and get flustered and then I kiss you and you basically turn into putty in my hands.”

Dongmin added on a new name to the journal: _Bin_. Bin definitely noticed, if his large grin was anything to go by. “Are you going to take revenge on me, Dongminnie?”

Dongmin knew he was blushing a terrible amount. “You're very lewd, Bin, of course I-”

“Have I been _naughty_ , Dongminnie?”

Dongmin threw one of the couch pillows at Bin's face, making his boyfriend laugh loudly, the charming tone ringing out across the apartment and filling Dongmin's heart with such joy.

He had given his future so much thought now that he was with Bin. And, honestly, his future only consisted of _Bin_ – Bin helping him clean the dishes, Bin sleepily tossing on whatever clothes he could find as his pajamas, Bin curling up as close as possible to Dongmin during the night. Nancy had somehow involved herself in that future, as well, on account that she made Bin happy, and Dongmin decided he would _never_ deny Bin the chance for true happiness.

As he held Bin close to him, he wondered if Bin felt the same way. He wondered if Bin found a future he could love and cherish.

“Hey, Binnie?” he whispered.

“Mm?” Bin's voice was cracking, husky and full of exhaustion, but Dongmin didn't want sleep to grab his boyfriend just yet.

“You asked me once before if I _wanted_ to be a detective.”

“Did I?” Bin yawned, shifting slightly. Nancy, resting at the foot of the bed, shifted as well, and Dongmin smiled at both of them before continuing.

“You did. And at the time, I wasn't so sure _what_ I wanted. I mentioned before my mother had set my future out for me, and I was supposed to follow it. Detective work was just something I was good at, due to my talents.”

“More than talents. You're so smart, even without magic.”

Dongmin grinned from Bin's compliments, and he kissed the top of his boyfriend's head. His lips lingered in his hair before murmuring, “I think what I want is in bed right next to me.”

Bin was quiet, then he whispered, “Nancy?”

Dongmin whined, “ _Binnie_ -”

“I know, I know.” Bin giggled, his voice cracking again, and Dongmin wondered if he could feel his own heart beating wildly against his chest. “And I thought _all_ I ever wanted in life was to become a detective. That was all I ever worked for.”

“Is...is that all you _still_ want?”

“Yup.”

Dongmin shoved him lightly, causing Bin to snort. His arms lazily wrapped around Dongmin's waist, and he lifted his head to blink up blearily at the older man. “I've decided that I'll gladly give up all of my ambitions and goals if it means I can spend the rest of my life with you.” He smiled fondly, then added, “Thankfully, I can have _both_ of those things, but if I were to choose, you would always come out on top.” He closed his eyes once more, snuggling his face into Dongmin's chest, and he quietly mumbled, “But you should know that by now, Dongminnie. It's elementary.”

Dongmin did know that. He just liked to be reminded of it, and as he kissed Bin's head once more and watched sleep pull his boyfriend away, he realized that this was his future.

Dongmin didn't live a normal life, in any sense of the word, and he wouldn't give it up for the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SO ENDS ELEMENTARY, my longest fic to date. will i ever release anything as long as this??? hopefully so, but until then, please enjoy elementary and all it's ups and downs and smiles and tears and bad writing and good writing. i love each and every one of you - i love all the comments i received on this and the asks i got from my tumblr and the people screaming at me over stuff and the people who drew fanart for it and the people who just were there to support me every step of the way throughout the writing process. also, big shoutout to [@daeminanalo](http://www.daeminanalo.tumblr.com/) for [MISCHIEF](http://www.daeminanalo.tumblr.com/post/160029736996/everyone-please-support-my-newly-made-fansite-for) and also for being the chief's #1 supporter and current wife.
> 
> SO WHAT IS NEXT??? more likely than not, i'm dropping a new myungjin fic sometime this week. i'm seriously so hyped over this idea and the planning process is fun enough as is, so please look forward to that! ALSO, either this week or next week, I'm hoping to write the first chapter in the socky sequel. it'll be good to have the cute myungjin being updated alongside the socky, because the socky will be pretty angsty during a lot of scenes, similar to how elementary was. (maybe more so because sanha is a baby and a cutie pie and he doesn't deserve anything bad ever) regardless, i'm hopeful you guys will enjoy both of these fics! as always, though, please feel free to drop me any asks or requests of other fics i should try out some day!
> 
> you can always drop by my tumblr to scream at me and send me those sweet dollar bills [@vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com). ONCE AGAIN, THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING ME ALONG ON THIS JOURNEY!!! i love all of you so much.
> 
> (apparently all fics in this series end with cute bedtime kisses, rip seal, im weak)


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